The Road to the West
by Camudekyu
Summary: She is a collection of things that were never meant to be. On the search for something she's lost and with nowhere left to go, Rin heads west. But she is not doing it alone. Rated M for the hazards of life on the road.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer (applies to all chapters):** I lay claim to no part of the Inuyasha Universe. It's not mine. So stop calling me.

**A/N: **Here we are again. FirstChapterVille. Enjoy. This is for the Captain and Evan who really need a brain-break from Fma and Shigo.

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**The Road to the West**

**Chapter One**

The little temple on the hill was barely discernable through the sheets of falling rain. From the foot road below, it was nothing more than a dark gray collection of angles against the gray background, all of which lamely peeked through the light gray haze of the foreground. Between the steel gray sky and the green-gray earth, Rin thought she might just fade out entirely. Even her canary yellow kimono was beginning to blur around the edges, she thought.

Trudging through the mud was proving more exhausting than she had anticipated; Rin felt her calves aching from pulling her ankles free and her thighs aching from pulling her calves free, but she was not one to complain. No one was there to hear her anyway. When the path began to slope upward at the steeper angle, she simply set her mouth firm, hoisted her hem up to her knees and traipsed onward. After so many weeks of travel, with her goal in blurry sight, her determination was keener than ever.

She came to the entrance, panting and dripping and rather pathetically wiping the rain from her eyes; it seemed the wide, circular brim of her hat lacked her sense of perseverance. For that reason, it was now floating down one of the impromptu rivers that flanked the path.

Having never had an introduction to organized religion, Rin was not exactly certain what to do. She had seen over her travels to various temples in the area that Buddhism was nothing if not fastidious and disciplined; she knew she must take off her shoes. She also thought it might be frowned upon to drip on the floor of a House of God. For a moment, she considered stripping off her kimono, using it to wring out her hair and continuing on nude until she recalled the reactions of the people around her the last time she tried that tactic.

With little other choice, Rin remained shin-deep in the mud, holding up her kimono, and leaning forward to try and see into the adumbral passage. At the back of the room, she thought she could see a tall man seated on a dais. He seemed to be looking directly at her, so Rin waved at him awkwardly while holding her hem.

"Excuse me!" she called with vigor. "Hello, sir!"

The man did not reply. Rin thought that was rather odd; perhaps he could not hear her over the rain.

"Sir!" she called again, dropping her hem to wave her whole arm emphatically. "Miserable weather, isn't it, sir?"

He still said nothing.

"Sir?" she attempted once more. He was clearly ignoring her. "Well, if you'll excuse me, sir, but there is no reason to be rude." With a firm frown, Rin planted her hands akimbo. "I know you can see me, standing out here in the rain, sir. I could understand if you don't want me tracking all this into your nice clean shrine, but the _least_ you could do is say hello."

The man had the audacity to remain aloof.

"Well, I've never in all my life-"

"Miss?" a voice sounded from inside. "Are you all right?" A young man appeared in the doorway, garbed in the black robes of a monk and squinting through the rain.

"Oh!" Rin said. Suddenly faced with a responsive priest, she could not remember what one was supposed to do in the presence of a holy man. Was there a specific protocol to follow? She want to stomp her foot in the mud and curse the silly practices of humans; why must they always complicate things? She could recall, however, someone once telling her that it was inappropriate to curse around monks, so she did the only obeisance she had learned to mimic. Bending rigidly at the waist, Rin bowed quickly, sending the tendrils of her wet hair flipping forward over her head. With her eyes down, she did not see the deluge rainwater flung from her person and showered on his. The monk yelped and stepped back, raising his sleeve to cover his face.

"Sir, my name is Rin. I've traveled a very long distance to find a man. Could you perhaps help me?" she asked, repeating the same tired question she had asked anyone who would stop long enough to listen. She hoped she sounded enthusiastic while still sounding deferential enough.

"Miss Rin," the monk said, swiping a few errant drops from his face. "I am the monk, Kado." He gave her a brief bow. "Perhaps if you came inside, I may be able to help you."

Rin stood up straight again, flinging more water at Kado. "Oh, thank you very much, sir!" She gleefully hauled up her skirt to give her legs freedom to step onto the porch. Before she could put her foot down, Kado made a strangled sound and held up his hands. Rin paused and felt herself blush.

"Oh, forgive me, sir. How careless of me!" She put her foot back down and wriggled out of her sandal. She then lifted her foot again and planted it with a muddy squish on the floorboards. When she had risen to her bare foot, she squirmed out of her other sandal and let it fall back into the mud. "I truly appreciate your generosity monk. I could use a sit."

Kado met her bright grin with a rather helpless look. "Why don't you wait under the awning here, Miss Rin, while I fetch you something warm and dry to wear?" he suggested.

The notion of something warm and dry had Rin lit up instantly. She nodded and bowed again. Kado managed to dart inside before being doused once more. "Please and thank you, sir." As he disappeared into the shadows, Rin squished her way under the awning, leaving a sloppy trail behind her. When she turned around to see her mess, she felt a vibrant blush spread across her face. She would have to apologize for that later.

Kado returned shortly with a square of folded brown cloth and a towel. After wiping her feet clean, Rin changed into the fresh kimono. Carefully, she stashed her purse in her sleeve before adjusting the outfit on her shoulders and tying the thin obi supplied. It was obviously a peasant man's kimono, oversized and coarse. It was, however, better than the sodden, cold cloth of her buttery yellow kimono which she handed to Kado. He seemed uncertain with what to do with the garment, so he said he would hang it up somewhere to dry. After showing Rin inside and offering her a seat on a small cushion, he left to take care of her kimono.

Rin, in the rather scratchy comfort of dry clothing, settled on the floor. She bundled down with appreciation before taking a look around. The room was large and barren with open passages on three of the four walls, one leading out the way she came and two opening onto covered walkways. Rin discovered, in the dim light, that the man she had been scolding was actually a large, austere statue. He was bronze and heavily adorned, his eyes closed in what appeared to be deep meditation. Immediately, Rin had the distinct feeling that this was probably not a man she should be reprimanding.

"I'm sorry, sir…" she said to the statue, dropping her forehead and palms to the floor. The kimono piled up at the back of her head and wrists, hiding her in a messy tent of brown. "If I had known you were… a statue, I would not have scolded you so. That was terribly rude of me."

Tentatively, she looked up. The man had not moved, which was always a good sign when said man was a statue. He certainly appeared entirely human, no tusks or horns. Still, Rin thought she ought to be safe. "Um… if, by chance, you're a _god, _please don't smite me. I would certainly be offended if I were you, but you see, I'm on a bit of quest right now, and I could use all the good luck I can get." She dropped forward again dramatically. "I humbly apologize… or repent… or whichever you wish."

Rin lifted herself up when she heard the gentle padding of bare feet on the floorboards. From her right, Kado entered the main hall, carefully carrying a tray laden with a steaming kettle and two teacups. He sat gingerly and served them both.

"Now that you are quite comfortable, Miss Rin, how may this humble monk be of service to you?" Kado asked as he set his earthen cup down on the floor between himself and Rin.

"I've been looking for a man, sir."

Kado gently arched an eyebrow. "What sort of man?"

"A specific man," she said. "He has dark hair and eyes. The last time I saw him, he was wearing the robes of a monk. That is why I came here."

"Is he affiliated with this temple?" Kado asked.

Rin looked away. "I'm not certain. I've been to temples all over the east, searching for him, but I haven't found him. I don't recall him name, but I know that if I saw him, I would recognize him immediately. He wore his hair in a tail, bound back like this." Rin demonstrated the style by pulling the dripping mass of her long, dark hair into one fist at the base of her skull.

Kado pretended to think deeply for a moment; it was the least he could do for her. "In truth, Miss Rin, nearly every monk I know has dark hair and eyes and wears the robes of a monk." Kado feared for a moment that he had come off condescending until Rin's shoulders sank in true dejection. "Perhaps if you could recall anything more specific."

"Well," Rin began before taking a nervous sip from her tea. "There is something more, but I don't like to speak of it."

"It is certainly your choice if you wish to describe him," Kado replied. Despite his apparent indifference, Kado felt a slight swell of sympathy for the young woman. She was obviously searching blindly; her account was hardly a clue. He hoped that she would opt to tell him this secret detail. Perhaps then he could be of a little more help.

"When I saw him last," Rin failed to mention that it had been more than a decade since her last encounter with him. "He… well… he appeared to be cursed."

"Cursed?" Kado asked, recoiling slightly.

"Yes. He had a hole in his right hand that, when he uncovered his palm, would pull at everything. It could swallow a demon whole. He called it something that I can't recall," she explained. When Kado appeared disturbed by this, Rin added, "It was a catchy sort of name for something so terrible, though. I remember thinking it was rather clever." She flashed Kado a grin. It did not seem to improve his reaction.

"A hole in his right hand, you say?" Kado repeated. Rin thought he looked rather pale when she nodded. "That certainly would be a defining characteristic."

"I would say so," Rin replied. "Can you think of anyone? Anyone at all who would fit that description?"

Kado thought in earnest. Dark hair, dark eyes, dressed as a monk, grotesquely marred by a curse. He seemed to think that, had he encountered anyone with those characteristics, he would remember it. Since nothing in particular stood out, Kado shook his head regretfully.

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Rin. No one at this temple or any temple I have visited matches your description. Was he a traveling monk?"

"I'm not at all sure," she replied. "I've never really met him, you see."

"Oh? Then why are you looking for him?"

Rin's face abruptly split into a bright, disarming grin. "I'm actually looking for… something else entirely. But to find this something else I need to find _another_ something else, and I'm hoping that this monk can help me find the other something so I can then find the first something. Does that make sense?"

Kado stared at her for a moment before shaking his head in the negative.

Rin laughed loudly and waved a hand at him dismissively. "That's all right. It's actually very silly, this whole search. I'm sure it will amount to nothing in the end."

Kado hummed in thought for a moment before finishing his tea. "Well, however silly you say it is, I can tell your journey is important to you. For a search of this magnitude, you must be well rested. I invite you to spend the night here at the temple. Perhaps the rain will have passed by the morning."

Ducking her head, Rin replied, "Thank you very much, sir. That's terribly generous of you. I accept."

After they had both finished their tea, Kado showed Rin to a room where she could sleep. They left through the passage to the right of the statue and walked out onto a raised walk with a wooden roof overhead. Rin was not at all sure why this place had suddenly put her on edge, but she felt her defenses rise like the hackles on a dog. To the right of the path was the sloping side of the hill, thick with trees and brush. She watched inconspicuously for any movement in the undergrowth, but the steady fall of rain and flow of mud made it difficult to tell one rustling from another. Kado did not notice her sniffing the air and silently berating the rain for diluting her already dampened sense of smell. Not for the first time, she wished she were not unarmed.

"I fear the grounds are not much to see this time of year," Kado explained, gesturing to the cloister to the left of the path. Rin was not particularly interested in the garden, but she humored the young monk.

"Really?' she asked, hoping her interest did not sound feigned. The garden was large and perfectly square; forming the perimeter were small buildings and the covered path linking them. The trees and bushes drooped, looking rather battered by the rain; the single, forking path that cut through the garden was muddy and blurring around the stones set to line it.

"Oh yes," Kado said, brightening considerably. "The lilies are lovely in spring. It is my responsibility to tend to the garden when the weather permits; I've come to enjoy it very much."

"That's nice," Rin said absently. She had lost interest in the garden itself and was now distracted with the small, rather pathetic looking shed in the far corner of the garden. The structure appeared to be holding up against the rain but undoubtedly fighting a downhill battle. It pagoda roof looked very simple; it lacked the graceful curve and instead resembled a rickety, wood pyramid. Rin supposed she could not berate the architect for that. The roof cut through the rain very well, even if it were crude. And there was nothing wrong, in her opinion, with anything that served it purpose, even if it were entirely unsophisticated.

"What is that room there?" Rin asked, pointed to the shed.

Kado glanced at the shed and gave it a dismissive wave. "That is simply a storage shed. There is nothing of importance in there."

"Ah," Rin replied. Then Kado could not sense it, she thought. There was a distinct aura of something powerful in that shed. The energy was very old and substantially faded, but Rin knew demonic energy when she felt it. "Then why store it?" she asked.

"Excuse me?" Kado asked.

"If there is nothing of importance in there, then why bother storing it?" she repeated.

Her host was quiet for a long, telling moment. "You will have to ask that of my master,"

Rin interpreted that to mean the young man had no idea what was in the shed and had never been bold enough to ask. This only made Rin more curious. "Could I meet your master some time?" she asked, skipping a few steps so she and the monk walked abreast.

"My master is terribly busy. He is away at the moment, tending to something in the village."

"Tending to something?" Rin asked.

"Yes, a demon problem." Kado spoke as though he were describing a disease. Rin furrowed her brow. That was the quandary with demons, she felt. Humans rarely stopped to discern whether a demon was a "problem" or not before they killed it. She would be terribly displeased if Kado's master returned after exterminating something harmless, which was typically the case.

"When do you expect him to return?" Rin asked, feeling her fists tighten spontaneously.

"He should be back before dark; however, he will most certainly be tired. I will tell him you wish to see him, though."

"Do you think he'll agree?" Rin probed.

Kado stopped walking at the sliding door to a long, rectangular building. He turned and eyed Rin for a moment. "How old are you?" he asked.

Rin gave him a puzzled expression. She did not see the relevance of that but answered anyway. "I'm seventeen, sir."

Kado gave her a sage nod. "Oh, yes, he will most definitely see you."

-

-

-

The stark temple was really beginning to grow on Rin. After two nights of sleeping outside in the rain, a thin futon, a rough blanket, and a sputtering brazier could have been nirvana, not to mention the bliss of a roof over her head and floorboards under her body.

Still garbed in her oversized, brown kimono, Rin snuggled down into her futon. Kado had been kind enough to bring her a thin, broiled fish soup for dinner, which Rin ate with fervor. She had lost her hunting knife somewhere a few villages down the path and did not have the money to purchase a new one. Since then, she had been chewing whatever familiar vegetation she could find; foraging was not foreign to her, but it certainly did not appeal more than a bowl of hot soup provided by someone else. Kado laughed at her vehemence before bringing her a second bowl.

Now well-fed, warm, and dry, Rin could hardly remember her disappointment at not finding her man. This certainly was not the first time that she had left empty-handed; she was becoming accustomed to the feeling. She was, however, beginning to fear that she needed to extend her search. Perhaps he had left the east, or worse, perhaps he had died. Rin could recall him being an adult when she had met him, but in her childish recollection, he could have been anywhere from eighteen to thirty. All she could remember was that he much taller than she was, therefore making him an adult. Of course, she had been seven at the time, so truly, there was no telling how old or young he was.

Rin sighed. She refused to become overwhelmed. She resolved to be more determined than ever; her stomach was fuller than it had been in weeks, she could hardly give up now. She knew she would be able to speak to Kado's master when he returned; he would have an answer for her when she awoke.

She recited to herself what had become a mantra, "I'll continue in the morning."

With her fortitude set, her entire body began to feel heavy. She sensed the exhaustion and gratitude in her muscles before closing her eyes and promptly falling asleep.

Nearly an hour of chilly, rainy night had passed before Rin jolted awake. She felt a familiar wash of heat over her body, making her heart thud so hard that her vision shook in time. She drew in deep breaths through her nose but smelled nothing beyond the smoky brazier and cotton. She could sense nothing else in her room and did not see any iridescent eyes peering at her from the corners.

Outside something let out a distinctly human yelp. Rin sat up straight and concentrated. Through the droning rain, Rin could hear the ever-constant rustling of dead branches. Suddenly, through the cacophony, Rin heard a very loud, heavy crash.

Rin leapt to her feet and fumbled her way out of her room and into the hall. On the walkway outside, light from the lamp Kado held shone through the cracked door at the end of the corridor. Rin hoisted up her hem and charged outside, flinging open the door. Kado jump in surprise, his face ashen in the flickering firelight.

"What was that noise?" he asked her.

Rin had been ready to ask him the same thing. She shook her head. "I'm not certain. There is something in the forest."

Kado opened his mouth but no sound came out. Rin could see his chin trembling when he turned to look back into the shifting, shadowy trees.

"Has your master returned?"

"N-no," Kado replied. "Perhaps it is he." His voice was bleak, shaking and entirely unhopeful.

Rin could tell that, should some disaster befall them, she was on her own. Kado looked like he might swoon at any moment; clearly, the coming demon was hers to handle.

She did not dare tell Kado that it was a demon. He could not sense the aura, and if he could, he would probably wet himself and faint there.

"Why don't you go back inside, Kado," Rin suggested gently. "I can wait here with the lamp for your master."

"P-perhaps-" began Kado. A loud rustling in the trees and the frantic shaking of a large bush cut his sentence short. Kado let out squeak of terror. "It's here!" he cried, grabbing Rin's arm and taking a trembling step away from the edge of the walk.

Rin was quite certain that, when a man-sized shape burst from the bushes, that this creature was not the source of the aura she felt. It was far too small to produce demon energy that potent. The shape cut directly across the short distance from the forest to the walk very quickly and stumbled into the small circle of lamplight. Kado yelped again and threw his hands in front of his face, dropping the lamp. It hit the floorboards and blinked out, leaving Rin, Kado, and the newcomer in complete darkness.

"Kado!" the shape asked. Rin quickly discerned that it was a man when he came to stand at her side. She could sense that he was a monk as well but clearly a far more powerful one than Kado. "Get inside immediately and relight this lamp!" he commanded.

"Yes, master," Kado bowed quickly and stooped to find the lamp. Rin watched him patting down the floor, searching for the fallen lamp and making plaintive whimpers to himself. She wondered for a moment how his eyesight could possibly be so poor before leaping over the inner edge of the walk into the garden where the lantern had fallen.

"Here!" she said, holding up the lamp. Kado spun around, snatched it from her outstretched hand, and dashed inside, stumbling over his robes and feet.

"I fear this is not a good night to be at this temple, visitor," the unnamed man said, his voice high and tense.

"On the contrary!" Rin chirped, feeling her adrenaline rushing. She stepped back onto the walk and wiped her hands on her kimono. "This looks like great fun! What sort of demon have you goaded?"

The monk wasted no time wondering how a young woman could find the situation to be _great fun._ "A cat of some sort. It's very-"

He did not need to finish the description as the beast chose than moment to come galloping through the trees, roaring and thrashing. It was a quadruped about the height of a horse, but much thicker. Rin wished she could get a better look at it, but it smelled of cat and felt of demon; that was all she really needed to know.

The demon's aura flooded the grounds, nearly pushing Rin over. She saw the shape of the man waver and start to dart into the garden, but he did not move fast enough. The demon raised a massive claw and swatted at the monk, sending him flying to the ground to Rin's right and knocking out three support posts for the ceiling over the walk in one swipe. The cover over the fallen beams crumbled and, like dominoes, the rest followed.

After leaping off the walk into the garden, Rin seized the monk under the arms and dragged him to his feet. "Come on, up, _up!_" she commanded, helping him steady. "What kind of fool turns his back on a demon?" Rin asked as she pulled the dazed monk further into the garden.

"You'll have to excuse me," the monk bit back. "It's been chasing me for the last mile!"

The demon let out an ear splitting yowl and shook its head, flinging strings of saliva over Rin and the monk. Rin gasped and stopped where she stood as the monk continued inward.

Spreading her hands and rubbing the vicious spittle between her fingers, Rin whined, "Eeeeew! She just spat all over me!"

"You can bathe if you survive," the monk exclaimed, grabbing Rin by the back of her obi and flinging her into the garden just in time to avoid the demon pouncing on her. Rin hit the mud and slid on her back.

"Oh, thank you," Rin retorted. "Now I'm covered in spit _and_ mud!"

"Would prefer blood and entrails?" the monk called as he flung two sutras at the demon. One hit it below its right eye and burst into flame, momentarily illuminating the demon's face. The flash lasted long enough for Rin to note the particular markings on the demons brow. The second sutra struck the cat in the chest; it lingered a little longer before singeing and exploding as well. The demon shrieked and pawed at its face.

"Direct hit!" the monk exclaimed.

"If only you had hit it with something more substantial than an _exploding piece of paper!_" Rin shouted over the rain as she clamored to her feet. She could only imagine the monk's glare.

After clearing its eyes, the demon snarled and turned on the monk. He began to ready more sutra from his sleeve before a loud clatter sounded from the edge of the garden by the fallen walkway. Rin, the demon, and the monk all looked over to see Kado standing in an open doorway, proudly holding up a lighted lamp.

"Master!" he called triumphantly. "I've brought… the…" his voice faded and flickered out as he connected the massive cat demon with the iridescent eyes now leveled on him. Even over the rain, Kado's squeak of terror sounded loudly.

The demon growled and curled backwards onto its haunches, readying to spring.

"RUN!" Rin and the monk shouted simultaneously.

The young monk let out a shriek, flung the lamp into the air, and ran back inside, flailing his arms helplessly. The lamp spiraled through the air and crashed onto the rubble of the demolished walk, sending oil splashing over the planks. Neither Rin nor the monk, nor even the demon expected the damp wood to catch fire as quickly as it did.

"Into the fire!" Rin cried. "Force it into the fire!"

"It's going after Kado!" the monk shouted back, paying little attention to Rin's suggestion. He began scrambling toward the demon, brandishing sutras.

From where she stood, Rin had a clear shot directly to the demon, no trees or bushes in her path. The demon was already preparing to pounce on the building where Kado was inevitably cowering inside; the monk would not hit the demon before it ripped apart the walls and plucked Kado from within.

"Ooooh," Rin breathed, knowing she was going against the cardinal rule of demon combat. She was completely unarmed, yet she found herself charging toward the demon anyway.

With a battle cry, Rin slammed her shoulder into the demon's ribs just as it sprang for the building. From the resulting projectile of claws and fangs, Rin took a paw to the flank and a kick to the head, sending her skidding to a pile a few meters from where the demon landed. She heard the monk shout something but could not understand over the ringing in her ears.

"Ooh, I must be the biggest fool," she whimpered, holding her head. She painfully pushed herself up to her hands and knees then to her feet where she swayed for a moment but eventually found her balance.

She had little time to recover before the monk cried, "Look out!" from a distance away. Rin looked back to the demon just in time to see a paw swipe in and send her sailing into a wall.

The world swam wretchedly for a moment before Rin could open her eyes. All she could see at first was a jagged circle of shifting orange light hovering before her. When her eyes could focus completely, Rin realized that she had crashed through a wall and was gazing at the consequent hole her body had left.

She remained sprawled out for a moment longer as she did a quick review of her body. "Ooooh," she groaned. "I've broken everything."

Rin was immediately roused from her pain when she heard the monk let out a yelp outside in the garden. Scrambling in the debris, she clamored to her feet and started for the hole. She stopped, however, when she felt something tug on her. It was an odd feeling, not like her clothing was stuck on something. Something was pulling on her hara, her center behind her navel. Pivoting around, Rin realized that she had barreled through the wall of the storage shed and was standing in the midst of a stockpile of demonic weaponry. No wonder she had sensed such an intense aura from the shed.

Reaching her hand out in the dark, Rin closed her fist around the first object she touched. It was hard and cylindrical, grainy like wood. When she pulled it toward her, she could feel a good, solid weight to it, not too heavy for her but heavy enough to do some damage.

Stumbling frantically, Rin charged out of the shed and examined her weapon in the light. It was a long, wooden staff, slightly taller than she was and tipped with blunt, bronze caps. Had there been time, she would have given it an experimental swing, but when she looked up to see the monk desperately throwing rather ineffectual sutras at an encroaching demon, Rin knew she would have to test it later.

The fire was growing high, having nearly consumed the entire walk despite the rain. The garden was now flooded with dancing, orange light that seemed to bring out Rin's defenses even more. There was something terribly bestial about fighting by firelight; she rather liked it.

"Monk!" Rin shouted as she ran toward him. He looked up, his eyes bright and wide in the firelight. "Oh, watch out!" Rin cried, cursing herself for distracting him. Without thought, the monk sprang backwards, avoiding a swinging paw. Once steady, he took out another sutra and flung it with accuracy. The spell hit the demon in the left eye, making it shriek and flail.

"This way," Rin said, gesturing toward the fire. ""I have an idea! Lead it this way!" The monk, certainly looking worse for wear, nodded wearily. When the demon recovered, the monk darted in the direction Rin indicated and started inching toward the fire. He flung another sutra to keep the demon a distance away.

"What do you suggest we do?" the monk asked before wiping his eyes with an already sopping sleeve.

"You'll see!" Rin replied, tightening and loosening her grip on her staff nervously.

"I would _really_ rather you tell me!" the monk shouted back.

"Trust me," she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.

The monk fired another sutra and looked over his shoulder. "I am not convinced!"

"We're going to send it into the fire."

The monk coughed out a mirthless laugh. "With your inhuman strength or mine?" He delayed the demon with another sutra.

"With mine, silly!" Rin replied.

Not expecting that reply, the monk turned and gave her a puzzled expression. With him facing her, Rin saw the demon recover from the sutra and charge. She gasped and cried, "Bow!"

"What?!" the monk shouted. He looked back at the approaching demon and did just as Rin said. Bending at the waist and covering his head, the monk bowed forward and braced himself.

Rin darted forward, thrust one of the bronze ends of her staff in between the demon's front legs and used the poor, unsuspecting monk as a fulcrum. With the staff resting on his lower back, Rin threw herself down on her end. The other end of the staff flew up, caught the demon between its front legs and launched it in an arc overhead.

Both Rin and the monk crumbled to the ground with the inertia and tumbled to a muddy stop in time to see the thrashing, airborne demon come crashing into its pyre. The air was rent by the demon's howling as it scrambled and scratched in the flames.

Rin felt the staff underneath her jerked away, tossing her aside painfully. She opened her mouth to chastise the monk but stopped when she saw what he was doing. With the staff in hand, the monk began beating the demon's skull repeatedly.

Then the night was filled with the sounds of a crackling fire, falling rain, and panting breath, but the demon was silent. The weary, slumping monk slowly turned back to where Rin was laying in the mud. For a moment, they remained silent, watching each other as though to prove their survival through the presence of the other.

Rin's face suddenly split into a grin. "That was _brilliant_ if I do say so myself!" she chirped, pushing herself to sit up. The monk seemed to slump even more. Letting out a series of moans and squeaks, Rin stood up and came to stand before the monk. "I believe we make a wonderful team, Mister… uh…"

"Miroku," the monk breathed, exhausted.

"_Miroku_?" Rin asked, her eyes widening. She let her mouth fall open. She stared at him for a long moment, absorbing his bruised, wet face.

"Yes," the monk replied.

"I once knew a girl with a cousin named Miroku," Rin said matter-of-factly. Suddenly she furrowed her brow and looked away. "But maybe his name was Jin. And now that I think of it, he wasn't her cousin either."

Miroku blinked.

"Anyway, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Miroku, sir."

-

-

-

Dawn arrive far too soon for the inhabitants of the temple. The night before, they had managed to douse the fire using water collected in the rain barrels but opted to leaving the cleaning up for the next morning. They had then tended to themselves; Miroku all but insisted that Rin allow him to dress her wounds, but Rin humbly declined, saying instead that she could care for herself. She thought the monk looked oddly disappointed when they said their goodnights and retired to their sleeping chambers.

Now, with diffused, gray light pouring in through every window, Rin and the monks resigned themselves to the grueling task of clearing away the rubble.

They had a humble breakfast of sweet rice balls and pickles that Rin inhaled.

"What brings you to our humble temple, Miss?" Miroku asked. They sat opposite each other on the floor of the lecture hall, both he and Rin holding rather stiff postures to compensate for bruised and broken ribs. Kado refused to look either in the eye, embarrassed that he was the only one entirely uninjured.

Rin dropped her eyes; it was as much of a bow as she could muster. "Sir, my name is Rin. I've traveled a very long distance to find a man. Could you perhaps help me?" she recited.

Miroku glanced at Kado only to find the young man terribly interested in a fleck of rice that had fallen on his knee. He looked back to Rin, who was now giving him a doe-eyed, beseeching look. Miroku immediately put on a winning smile. "Will any man do, or are you looking for one in particular?"

Rin clearly missed his insinuation. "A particular man," she replied. Miroku put on the same slightly dejected face he had worn the evening before when she denied him the opportunity to dress her wounds. Rin did not understand but decided that perhaps there was something wrong with the man; he had, after all, taken a rather hard blow the night before.

"I have not seen him in a very long time, and I've been searching endlessly. I must find him."

"How long?" Miroku asked, taking a sip from his tea.

"Ten years, I believe."

Miroku swallowed quickly and coughed. "You've been searching for ten years?"

"Oh no," Rin waved her hands. "I have not seen him in ten years. I've been searching since the spring."

"Ah, I see," Miroku replied. "Can you recall what he looks like?"

"Rather average, I fear," Rin replied, poking at one of her rice balls before popping it into her mouth. "Dark hair and dark eyes. He was dressed at a monk," she added around her mouthful.

"Hmm, that doesn't narrow the search very much, does it?" Miroku said, his charming smile flickering slightly at Rin's uncouth eating habits. "You don't have a name for this man?"

"Mmm-mm," she answered, shaking her head. She glanced at Kado to see if he would mention the curse, but it appeared the younger monk was not interested in joining the conversation. She hesitated, considering telling Miroku about the curse, but she could not bear to talk about something so evil after they had such poor luck the night before. "That is all I know," Rin continued.

"I'm sorry, Miss Rin, but with that description, he could be almost any monk in the region, even the country."

"I'll know him when I see him. I know I'll recognize him!"

Miroku smiled warmly. "If you are so determined, then we will pray for your success," he offered. "As much as I enjoy chatting with beautiful young women, there is a lot of work that needs to be done. Kado," Miroku prompted. Kado bowed quickly, gathered up their dishes and hurried out of the lecture hall.

Emitting a chorus of grunts, both Rin and Miroku climbed to their feet. The monk gestured toward a door at the end of the long building, "I'll show you to your kimono."

Rin looked down at herself and stroked her rough obi . "I would prefer to wear this one, sir. Not to insult the quality of care you and Kado have given me, but… well, this one's already brown. The mud won't show as much."

Miroku revealed a crooked smile. "Certainly a woman of your beauty needs a finer traveling kimono than this."

Rin blinked owlishly. "Who said anything about traveling?"

"I'm sorry?" the monk asked.

Rin put her hands on her hips and replied tartly, "There is work to be done. You said so yourself, sir. I can't very well expect you and Kado to do it. Plus, I want to see that staff of yours, again."

"My staff, you say?" Miroku took a step closer.

Rin nodded, apparently unfazed by the monk's proximity. "The one you had locked away with the other weapons," she said, having to tilt her head upward to look at Miroku's face; however, he quickly took a small step away as his smile flickered. "Why did you have a shed full of weapons, by the way? They seemed very powerful even before I went inside."

The monk seemed rather taken aback by that. "You could sense them?"

"Of course I could! Any monkey with half a brain could sense that much demonic energy!"

Miroku snorted. "Don't mention that to Kado."

-

-

-

They took shifts, rotating out between shovels, rakes, and baskets. A great deal more than Miroku had anticipated was salvageable, and he and Kado carried the intact planks under the awning to let them dry. Rin gave an enthusiastic protest against allowing the men to do the lifting, but Miroku was, among other things that often seemed mutually exclusive to his chivalry, chivalrous. He gave Rin a long handled rake and asked her to push the ash into the lifeless plots in the garden.

As unpleasant as the cold and rain can be, it certainly wins over hot and dry when manual labor is required. Soon, they were all thoroughly soaked by the weak, relentless drizzle, but that only served to keep them cool and wash the sweat from their brows.

"If I weren't in this terrible pain, I might find this very refreshing," Rin said brightly as she squinted through the rain at Miroku, who had just tossed her small chunk of blackened wood.

Miroku opted not to reply. He was beginning to find Rin's unending gusto less endearing and more exhausting; her commentary was bordering on annoying to him, so he focused on how the rain added weight to her kimono, and how the weight added neckline. And when she leaned forward to gather debris… yes, Miroku could easily tolerate her personality.

"Are you all right, sir?" Rin asked, bent at the waist as she sifted through the muddy ash for the last shards of wood. He had stopped digging at the blackened rubble with his rake and was leaning against the handle, clearly in the midst of reverie.

He could almost see her navel like that. "Oh, yes, just fine," he replied quickly, sliding seamlessly back into focus. He tightened his grip on the handle and continued pulling ash into a pile around the skeletons of the azaleas. "Simply resting for a moment."

As the morning wore on, both Rin and Miroku had to pause to rest more and more frequently. As they slowed, Kado became more diligent, fueled entirely by guilt. He offered to take this task and that tool until he eventually insisted that Miroku and Rin take a seat while he continued working. By then, they were nearly a quarter done.

"My, Kado's working very hard," Rin remarked as she pulled up and rebound her sodden sleeves. "I think we're making good progress."

Miroku did not agree. "I agree."

"What do you suggest we do with the demon carcass?" Rin asked. Her eyes slid to the charred hulk of the demon. She felt it was a rather gruesome way to go, but, truly, the demon had been asking for it. Her pride quickly beat down the twinge of guilt. This was one more win for her, not that she was keeping a tally. The numbers did not matter very much; whatever the count, the first fight she lost would be her last fight. Regardless of the otherwise looming morbidity, she felt this kill had been artfully executed.

"Move it into the forest, I suppose," Miroku replied.

"What?" Rin asked, sitting straight abruptly. She winced but continued. "We must either bury it or eat it, sir. That's only respectful."

"Take another look at the body, Miss Rin," Miroku replied, gesturing in the direction of the body. "Would you really like to eat that?"

Rin shifted her eyes back to the carcass with a frown. "Well, not really."

"And the prospect of additional digging sounds even less appealing," he said knowingly.

Rin thought it terribly shameful to simply heave the body into the woods, but the monk had a very good point; however, she could not give in so easily. Chagrined, she crossed her arms. "I think that shameful, _sir_."

"Yet it remains more pleasant than eating it," replied the monk, holding up a finger as though to make a point. "Keep in mind," Miroku opened his fist and moved it so his index finger hovered before his mouth, He closed his eyes and continued sagely, "In the great chain of life and death, all is assimilated in the end; all things are eaten eventually."

Miroku paused, waiting for Rin to follow with something as pious and poignant. When she said nothing, the monk opened his eyes and looked to her. Her furrowed brow and wrinkled nose surprised him; he had been expecting to see her bowed in prayer or staring in adoration or _something_.

"Ew," Rin said.

Letting out a sigh, Miroku allowed his shoulders to slump. "Perhaps we should get back to work."

"Good idea," Rin replied, her voice still taut with revulsion.

Just as they rose, Kado came around the side of the building after leaving an armload of half- and quarter-planks in the bathhouse. He waved at them and jogged closer.

"Would either of you like to stop to eat something? I'm getting rather hungry."

"_No_," both Rin and Miroku replied simultaneously.

-

-

-

With the mounting exhaustion of the injured, work progressively slowed through the day. Kado worked as furiously as he could, offering his companions more and more breaks while he attempted to pick up the slack. It was no use however, and by sundown, they were nearly halfway done clearing away the wreckage.

As the wooly gray sky darkened to black, Rin, Miroku, and Kado settled on the edge of the porch surrounding the lecture hall and observed their work. Neither Kado nor Miroku had the heart or the energy to silence Rin when she praised them for their teamwork and endurance.

"One more day of work like this and we'll be done," she reminded them. Miroku sighed and slumped while Kado flopped backwards against the floorboards. Rin smiled at them both and stuck her feet out under the fall of the runoff from the awning to rinse them.

Miroku had many times insisted upon Rin going inside to rest and only once after she had coughed blood into her palm did he say it out of concern for her. Even after that, Rin remained, pulling her weight in rubble. She was, despite her propensity for noise, very helpful in the process. Miroku resolved to accept the best of her officiousness and call upon his training to ignore the worst. Not that she was that difficult to endure; Rin was very supportive of them, working constantly when on her feet and cheering them on when she was resting. Kado seemed to find her attention very embarrassing since Rin's encouragement for him was more teasing than that which she gave Miroku. When Rin left to get them water, Miroku leaned over to Kado and murmured, "It is unbecoming of a monk to flirt so." Kado blushed bright red, ducked his head, and apologized. It was not that Miroku was put out by receiving less coquettish cheer from their lovely young companion in the clingy kimono. No, that was hardly the case. He was simply upholding his responsibility as Kado's master and teacher.

In the gloaming, Miroku and the others headed inside for dinner; however, with no one having the energy to cook, they ate dried sweet potatoes and water until they were either sated or sick of it.

Rin helped with the meager clean up before announcing that she was going to take a bath.

"Would either of you gentlemen care to join me?" she asked amiably.

Kado promptly turned scarlet and shook his head. "No thank you, Miss Rin," he said, studying his sweet potato wedge closely.

Miroku, on the other hand, sat up very straight, the weary, drawn expression on his face vanishing. "How generous of you to offer, Miss Rin," she said, dripping with charm. "I believe I could use a good soak."

Kado blinked and watched them both leave for the bathhouse, his face betraying all the woes and unfairness of his life. He had to keep from laughing out loud when Miroku experimentally touched the small of the girl's back, causing her to wriggle away and laugh at him teasingly. As though in retaliation for the laughter Kado suppressed, Miroku called over his shoulder a command to ready the fire in the bathhouse.

Once laden with towels, Miroku showed Rin the way to the bathhouse. With the one walkway unusable, they took the long way and went around the perimeter the other direction. They passed through the main hall where the statue of Buddha sat placidly against the wall. In the gentle light from the lamp Rin carried, the meditating man appeared golden and shifting, his sober face more peaceful, as though he were no longer in rigid devotion and more in calm repose. Rin could not help but stop before the Buddha and gaze. She lifted the lamp as high as she could and took a step closer.

"Are you a follower of Buddha?" Miroku asked from the door. He had paused there when he noticed Rin was not following and lingered for moment, reluctant to interrupt whatever spiritual stirrings were occurring in the silence.

Rin shook her head, still watching the Buddha's pleasant face. She took another inquisitive step forward and reached her free hand to the man's chest. Miroku expected her to give the Buddha a reverent stroke, but she instead fisted her hand and rapped her knuckles against the left pectoral.

"This is very nice work," she said, nodding. "Solid it sounds like."

"It is," Miroku said, shaking his head exasperatedly.

"What did you say his name was?" Rin asked, turning her golden face toward Miroku.

"His name is Buddha," Miroku replied, his voice low and smooth. He obviously held some respect for this Buddha, Rin thought.

"Hmm." Lifting her lamp one more, Rin looked back to the statue. "He looks very calm."

"He is meditating."

"Oh." Rin felt herself bite her lip as her fear from earlier resurface. "He wouldn't… well… happen to be a god would he?"

Miroku watched her for a moment before nodding his head. "He is the great Lord Buddha. Though, if you fear he is vengeful, he is not."

Rin put a hand on her chest and sighed. "That's a relief! When I first arrived, I mistook him for someone else and scolded him." She spun back around and gave Buddha a pat on the cheek. "Glad to hear you're the type with a sense of humor, Buddhi."

"Buddha," Miroku corrected.

"Right, Buddha." She blew him a kiss before jogging to stand at Miroku's side. He was giving her an expression that Rin did not recognize. "Is something the matter, Mr. Miroku?" she asked.

"Have you never been introduced to Buddhism before?" he asked. Rin shook her head. "Then what is your path of choice?"

Rin looked out onto the dark, windswept walkway and tightened her grip on the lamp, making it sway. "Whichever is the shortest," she replied before stepping out of the main hall and into the autumn gusts. Miroku considered her reply for a moment before walking quickly forward to catch up with her.

They were quiet for a time since the wind was blowing hard enough now to make conversing rather difficult. Only when Miroku's curiosity grew strong enough, did he sidle close to Rin's flank and ask close to her ear, "Where are you from originally, Miss Rin?"

He saw her shoulders tense slightly, so slightly that, had he not been expecting such a reaction, he would not have noticed. Her wide brown eyes flicked over to him momentarily before flicking back to the path. He imagined that, with her rather unorthodox ways, she was probably asked this frequently; why, he wondered, would she be uneasy with the question?

She replied, "Far away," when Miroku remained hovering near her face with passive insistence. He wanted to probe further but felt her opposition conspicuous enough that he could not pretend not to notice.

They made the rest of the way in the deafening silence of the swinging lamp and progressively mounting rain. Miroku tried to position himself so that he blocked most of the wind and carried rain, but Rin made it rather difficult by persistently inching just ahead or behind him. Finally, Miroku gave up and took the lead.

They stopped at the sealed entrance to a small, outlying building. The path to the bathhouse was neither raised nor covered. Instead, a narrow strip of flat river stones stretched from the walk to the entrance, and water was collecting and threading through the path. Rin jumped nimbly from one stone to the next, the sullen silence vanishing in the face of good fun. Miroku wondered how she moved so agilely; she was certainly as wounded as he, if not more so. Perhaps it was because she was young, he thought glumly.

Miroku slid the door open and took the lamp as Rin stepped inside. Once closed inside the warm bathhouse, Miroku walked around the perimeter lighting the oil lamps. He turned around rather suddenly when he heard a short splash of water, as though something was being dunked and removed.

To his surprise and great pleasure, Rin had promptly removed all her clothing upon entering, folded them rather haphazardly, and begun washing herself. She was sitting with her back to him on one of the benches over the slatted floor. She looked up suddenly when she sensed him watching her and flashed him a bright a smile.

"I haven't had a good scrub in ages!" she chirped, working a sudsy cloth over her narrow shoulders. Miroku managed a smile and a nod before Rin turned back around and continued rubbing at her skin.

Perhaps in his younger days, Miroku would have quickly run around and seated himself facing her; however, at his current age – a sort of limbo between being an adult and being old that felt something like a second adolescence – he had learned appreciation. Women had always been works of art to him, but he had, in his childish haste, typically found the focal point and lingered there. The back, he later found, was a wonderful accent piece to the focal point, or rather points. Women had such graceful line to their backs, the way they unconsciously shifted this way and that, stretching here and curving there like water or honey or whatever other mellifluous matter he could name.

Miroku watched the gently ridged groove down the middle of Rin's back as she turned slightly to work the lather over her flank. The shelf of her shoulders tilted momentarily before becoming parallel with the lucky bench on which her round buttocks rested.

As she stretched to wash her other side, Miroku noticed for the first time in his haze of distraction that her ribs were rather pronounced. While she still seemed arched and curved in all the right places, her corrugated side seemed to take away from slippery smooth slope his eyes followed.

"How did long did you say you had been traveling, Miss Rin?" Miroku asked.

"Far too long," she breathed. "Since the spring. I'll keep searching though." She paused to take the soap into her hands, rub it into thick, white foam, and begin scrubbing at her scalp.

That explained her state, Miroku thought. He remembered his days of solitary traveling. Despite his reputation for being a predator in all kinds of metaphorical ways, he could not hunt anything more animate that wild vegetables and the occasional shitake. On the few spans of long road between villages, after he had eaten the last of his rations, Miroku usually resigned himself to hunger. Though he could never recall specifically looking himself over, Miroku believed he probably looked much the same as young Rin; however, she had, in his opinion, a much cuter butt.

But back to the focal points. As casually as he could, Miroku came around and seated himself on a bench opposite Rin. She did not seem to mind or even notice that he was watching her. In fact, she was humming pleasantly to herself as she lathered her hair.

Again, her ribs were more accentuated as Miroku would have liked and her breasts looked rather deflated. Miroku, however, had never been accused of lacking imagination, and he began considering insisting that Miss Rin stay until she was well fed and prepared for another stretch of traveling. Miroku, of course, would be the judge of when she had eaten enough.

"I've never been watched so intently in my life," Rin remarked. "Is there something wrong with me?" She looked down at her stomach and thighs before craning her neck to examine her back. Lifting her hands to her face, she scrutinized both palms. When she felt Miroku still watching her, she stuck out a foot in his direction. "Am I malformed?"

"Far from it," he said, silky smooth.

Miroku could not be counted as someone lacking experience. He had seen all kinds of women, in every shape and size, all demeanors and classes, all shades and tints. And yet, not once in his repertoire of pussy, had he met a woman as absolutely clueless as Miss Rin. She seemed almost unaware that she was naked, as if it had not occurred to her to leave her clothes on in the presence of a man. Miroku wondered if she were trying to seduce him – not that she truly needed to make an effort if that were her intention. He had been seduced in his past by woman removing their clothing; that always seemed like the quickest route to the goal, but those women always _acted _naked, swaying their hips and flipping their hair and batting their eyes. Rin was hardly paying attention to him as she grabbed at the sole of her foot and began scrubbing between her toes.

No, Miroku resolved that Rin was not trying to entice him. She was just that dim.

"Is there something wrong, Mr. Miroku?" Rin asked when he looked toward the ceiling and shook his head. He opened his mouth to say that he was only thinking but was promptly cut off as Rin, still holding her foot, lost her balance and flipped backwards off the bench.

For a moment, they sat in stunned silence, Miroku staring at Rin's soapy feet sticking up into the air. Miroku managed not to laugh at her until she let out a whiny, "Ooow."

Rising to his feet, Miroku stood and came forward to her bench. "Are you all right?" he asked through poorly repressed laughter. His amusement only faltered slightly when he realized that he was standing, peering between her naked legs at the rosy, young cunt that resided there.

Rin did notice Miroku staring at her upturned vagina, and she scowled. "Oh, it's not that fascinating," she grumbled before awkwardly rolling to the side and pushing herself up to all fours. "Really, what is it with men?" she asked rhetorically before standing and rubbing her sore backside.

"You simply carry yours so well," Miroku said with a vague gesture to the shiny tuft of curls between her legs.

Rin let out an irritated _hmph_ before picking up the bucket of warm water by the bench and pouring it over her head. Miroku was sorely pressed not laugh again at her scrunched up face and the way she shook her sopping head, flinging water around the room. He thought the gesture was rather doglike and terribly amusing.

"Aren't you going to bathe?" Rin asked as she set down the empty bucket.

Miroku, who had been expecting a steamy tryst when he initially accepted her invitation, had not actually planned on bathing. Now that he realized that Rin's invitation was innocent and entirely hygienic, the prospect of bathing seemed rather unappealing. He was, however, feeling less than fresh from the day spent laboring and decided that since he obviously was not going to be participating in any other activities in the bathhouse, he might as well go for a scrub and soak.

"I believe I will," Miroku said, sounding rather disappointed.

"Don't take too long. You don't want the water to get cold." With that, Rin walked around the dejected monk and moved in the next room where she stepped into the large, round tub. Rin let out a long sigh and called through the open passage, "This is wonderful!"

Miroku made quick work of cleaning himself, silently bemoaning his female companion's lack of clue and his poor, pathetic blue balls. All the while, Rin hummed to herself and made soft splashes from the dimly lit next room.

When he made his way into the soaking room, Rin had her hands clasped at the surface of the water and was sending little spouts into the air. She noticed him and promptly slid down in the water until only her eyes remained above. Miroku thought for a moment that she was embarrassed or trying to be coquettish, but then she started humming under the water and giggling at the bubbles she blew. Miroku resisted the urge to roll his eyes and stepped into the tub with a long sigh. Once submerged, Miroku thought that soaking – and only soaking – was really not so bad.

"So, Miss Rin," Miroku began. She popped back up from under the water and smiled. "How long do you intend on staying with us?"

Rin replied, "Until the leftovers from the fire are cleared away."

"And where do you go from here?"

She sorted of patted the surface of the water in thought. "I'm not sure. To the next temple, I guess."

"And after that?"

"I don't plan on stopping until I find him, Mr. Miroku."

Miroku found her determination admirable while still entirely foolish. He thought she knew how improbable success was, but she was clearly resolved to continue plowing on blindly. The prospect of convincing her to stop now seemed more merciful than cruel. "If I may, what is the importance of this man? Is he family?"

Rin shook her head. "No, I need him to help me find something."

"And what is that?"

She sunk down into the water until her chin was submerged. "Someone, actually. Another man I haven't seen in ages. Then, once I find this man, he is going to help me find another man. This last man has something I really want."

"Sounds complicated," Miroku said as he stretched his legs out. He thought the girl's vagueness frustrating at first but then recalled that this was Rin and could only be expected.

"It makes sense to me. And I think it will make sense to this man when I find him."

"For the sake of being realistic, Miss Rin, I must warn you that you're not going to find your man on that description alone. Unless you can recall something more—"

"There actually is something more," Rin interrupted, watching her feet through the water. She contorted her mouth slightly. "I mentioned it to Kado, and I hoped he would tell you so I wouldn't have to."

Miroku eyed her. She seemed terribly uncomfortable suddenly; whatever this secret characteristic was must have been very shameful to make her that nervous. If nudity and nonexistent table etiquette did not embarrass her, what did?

"I would rather not talk about it, but if you think it would help…" Rin brought up her knees and put her arms around them. Miroku waited. By this point, he was not too terribly invested in Rin's search. He expected her to tell him that her mystery man possessed a phenomenon like curly hair or long fingernails.

"He was cursed," Rin said, her eyes focused on the round lip of the tub to her right.

Miroku sat up a fraction straighter. "Cursed?"

"Yes. He had a hole in his right hand that had been put there by a terrible demon. At least that's what I think."

The monk felt himself go rigid. "And what," Miroku continued cautiously, "was the nature of this hole?"

"He always kept it wrapped up, but when he uncovered it, it was a void. It pulled everything to it, sucked in the air. It was terribly destructive."

Miroku snuck a glance at his right hand where it dangled from the edge of the tub.

"I think it caused him a great deal of pain."

On his palm was a scar, a circle of pink, puckered flesh that still got tight and sore in the cold. It had been there for almost a decade now.

"He had it bound up in prayer beads. Have you ever seen anything like that?"

There was an indention across the scar that wrapped around to the back of his hand. The groove was permanent, he had found, after having been cut and held for so many years. He could still see the indelible border of pale and tan skin that stretched across his knuckles.

"Have you, Mr. Miroku? Please tell me you have. Or you know a rumor. Or anything. I must find him."

The monk was quiet for a long time. He snuck glances at his right hand, having forced the paranoia of a naked palm from the foreground of his consciousness a long time ago. He thought no one knew. He thought perhaps everyone had forgotten. Miroku began to wonder who exactly this girl was. And why did the name Rin sound familiar all of the sudden?

"This monk," Miroku said, directing his unsettled attention to the damp girl across the tub from him. He abruptly became aware of how small the tub was. "You say he had dark hair and eyes?"

"Yes, but not too dark. His eyes were… a sort of odd shade. Not exactly black and not brown. The same with his hair."

"You recall all that but not his name?"

"Well," Rin blushed and looked aside. "I remember thinking he was rather handsome. He had a striking sort of face."

"Handsome, you say?" Miroku grinned.

"Not in the usual way. But he had a very nice smile with nice white teeth. He had all of his teeth. I remember that! He wasn't… how would you put it? He wasn't…" Rin paused to search for the right word. "He wasn't masculine-looking, really."

Miroku's grin faltered.

"He was tall and skinny." Rin wrinkled her nose to add emphasis. "He had skinny arms, too." Rin became too absorbed in her gesticulating to notice the smile slip off Miroku's face entirely and fall with a splash into the tub where it promptly sank from sight. "But he seemed sturdy. And he was very powerful, too. He had such a unique face, though. I know I would recognize him." She frowned in determination.

"Would you?" Miroku asked, his pride having recovered from the barb about his build. He considered himself slender. Skinny was so… emasculating.

"Certainly."

"What if I told you that you've already met this man?"

Rin sat up so fast that her breasts bounced from the inertia. "What?"

"What if I told you he resides at this very temple?"

Her eyes grew very wide and her mouth sagged as she sat forward. Her brow suddenly furrowed. Her gaze flitted across the surface of the water as though watching her racing thoughts zip by.

Miroku thought this display amusing, and it only got funnier when her searching expression turned into a solid, wounded frown. She glared up at him. "I don't appreciate that, Mr. Miroku."

His amusement stayed strong. "What?"

"Toying with me so," she snapped. "Kado's too young to be the monk I need!"

Miroku grinned. He wondered how she could have been so struck by all his white teeth – a rather uncommon phenomenon – and still manage not to recognize them. "I wasn't talking about Kado."

Rin's face became curious once more. She cocked her head slightly to the side. "Is there another monk here I haven't met yet?"

Miroku dissolved into laughter before slapping his forehead. "Wait! Why are you laughing?" Rin exclaimed. She raised her hand to punch at the water but froze mid-motion. Slowly, understanding came to her. If the monk was at that temple, and Miroku and Kado were the only monks there, _and_ if Kado was not her monk…

Rin gasped and flew forward. She snatched the hand off Miroku's face and jerked it toward her. Miroku, having been jarred forward, stopped laughing and watched Rin's wide, brown eyes rake over his right palm. He felt her thumbs rub over the round scar. Her uneven fingernails scrapped gently as though she were testing the scar's authenticity. "This is it, isn't it?" Rin cried, tugging Miroku forward and thrusting his palm into his face. She pointed at his scar. "Is this the hole?"

"It was," Miroku said, recoiling from almost having had his nose crushed by his own hand.

Rin suddenly threw his hand aside and seized his shoulders. "It's him! It's you! I mean, you're you! Y-you're him!" She shook Miroku, who felt rather like he was being taken along for a ride he had not anticipated. Rin shoved her face forward until it was inches from his. "You don't look the same," she muttered.

Apparently Rin was either unaware or completely uncaring that she had inadvertently pressed her naked body against the monk's. Miroku, on the other hand, was painfully conscious of every inch of skin – it had been a terribly long time since he had felt anything like that – and he felt an odd sort of mix of relief and disappointment when Rin vaulted over the edge of the tub, spun around to face him, and collapsed into a beseeching bow.

"Please, monk, you must help me find the half-demon!" she cried, her rosy, wrinkled fingers trying to dig into the floor. Miroku looked down at her, naked and wet. She seemed to be trembling from the magnitude of her discovery. The sight of her was so unnerving, he almost forgot that she had asked something of him.

"The half-demon?"

"Yes," Rin looked up. "The half-demon, Inuyasha. I must find him!"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Back for more. Thanks.

**  
Chapter Two**

Miroku knew there was something about her. Something very conspicuous about her, other than her fatuity, struck him every time she was near. He could not call it acquaintance; he certainly did not recognize her physically. He had, however, an inkling that he had met the young woman before. Now he was convinced.

"Who are you?" Miroku asked apprehensively as he leaned over the lip of the tub, scrutinizing the girl on the floor for reasons other than her nudity.

She looked up quickly. If she were trying to hide her discomfort with her answer, she did a poor job. "I'm Rin, Mr. Miroku."

"I'm aware of that," he said, his curiosity keeping him from snapping at her. "What I want to know is—" He stopped abruptly.

A moment of silence lapsed. "Mr. Miroku?" Rin asked. She appeared rather frightened.

"You're that girl, aren't you?" Miroku asked, leaning further out of the tub. "The little girl that always trailed behind Inuyasha's brother."

Rin sat back suddenly. "I am. I mean, I did. A long time ago."

It then occurred to Miroku that not only was her face was familiar. She exuded that striking aura, one Miroku felt he would always recall. She felt almost demonic, as if she were still wearing the residual presence of the Lord Sesshomaru.

"I suppose that explains it," Miroku said, rubbing his chin.

"Explains what?"

"Why I knew I had been near you before. That is not an aura I would quickly forget."

Rin nodded almost solemnly. "Nor would I."

At first, Miroku thought that comment just another vapid Rin-ism, and he did not understand why she had sobered so quickly. He then realized that she was speaking of the original source of the aura. But why would the mention of the Demon Lord sadden her?

"I think we should discuss this further," Miroku suggested.

Rin perked quickly, making her breasts bob distractingly. "All right."

Miroku swallowed and looked away. "But perhaps you sho—we should find a more appropriate place to talk."

Rin furrowed her brow, clearly uncertain what was wrong with talking in the bathhouse. Could he not hear her over the rain? She looked around before remembering that she was naked. "Ooh," she said, nodding in understanding. "All right. Well, don't take too long." With that, she stood and hurried out of the soaking room. Miroku surreptitiously watched her dress.

Once Rin was gone, Miroku turned back and settled into the tub. He brought his knees up, rested his elbows on them, and began absently rubbing his right palm. It was the last habit involving the Wind Tunnel – or what was left of it – that he allowed himself.

So this was Rin? This was the little girl that seemed to defy all logic – or at least the small fraction of logic Miroku had allotted to the mysterious Demon Lord. Why would an elitist, human-hater take in a small child? There were many possible reasons, all of which either conflicted with the nature of Rin, the Demon Lord, or both. It seemed, however, that it was Miroku's time to find out the truth behind the paradox.

With a resigned sigh, Miroku allowed himself to sink beneath the water before emerging, removing himself from the tub, and dressing quickly.

He stepped into his sandals and slid open the door. He paused under the awning when he saw the girl standing a distance away on the raised walk, clasping her hands before her and looked terribly concerned. Behind her, the lamps were lit across the garden, illuminating the destruction on the other side of the temple. When he crossed the path and stepped up onto the walk, he gave Rin a quizzical expression.

"I didn't know if you were going to come," she said before darting ahead of him.

Did she think he would sit in the tub all night, he wondered? That would have made her more irritated than concerned, though. Miroku watched her back as she scurried away. Or was she just that desperate, that afraid? After all, she had been searching for him for a very long time.

Then again, Miroku thought, this was Rin. She, as a girl, as a human, as a person, made no sense at all. He would probably inflict bodily harm on himself while trying to understand her.

Kado was meditating in the lecture hall, and Rin insisted that they leave him be. They tiptoed across the tatami as quickly as they could while Kado tried desperately to ignore them. As they left, Miroku snatched up one of the lamps by the door and left Kado in semi-darkness.

Once in the main hall, Rin and Miroku sat themselves down by the large Buddha, and Miroku set the lamp between them. Rin made a fuss of settling her oversized kimono in a wrinkled pool around her legs, but Miroku thought she was simply trying to delay. He finally cleared his throat, making Rin jolt and then sit very still.

"Where were we?" she asked, smiling disarmingly.

"You were explaining everything."

"Oh… right. Well, um… where should I start? There is an awful lot to explain."

Miroku was getting irritated with the way she was fiddling with her hands. The girl could face down a raging, slathering demon gamely yet could not answer a few questions without twitching? It made Miroku want to twitch back.

"Perhaps at the beginning."

"All right. I started looking for you in the early spring. I tried all the large temples, but—"

"No," Miroku interrupted. "The _beginning._"

"Oh," Rin said. "You mean _that_ beginning." She cleared her throat. "I suppose you're wondering, like everyone else wonders, why I started following Lord Sesshomaru in the first place." Miroku nodded. "It's actually quite simple, really. I died. Lord Sesshomaru found me, revived me, and kept me."

"He kept you?" Miroku asked, raising a brow.

"Well," Rin scratched gently at her temple. "I think it was more like I kept him, and he didn't seem to mind."

Miroku did not even bother replying to that. Despite his disbelief, Miroku was grateful to see that Rin was gradually brightening. He found her cheer rather grating, but her sorrow was downright disconcerting.

Rin laughed at the skeptical look on his face. "Truly, that's what happened. I had found him in the woods about a week earlier. He was laying against a tree as serenely as ever, looking like…" Rin paused. She then turned to the Buddha and pointed at his blank, focused face. "Looking like him." She brought her hand back to her lap. "Like he could be anywhere because it was all his in the first place."

Miroku could imagine that look. It was the same way Sesshomaru looked in all Miroku's memories of him.

"He was—" Rin stopped abruptly.

"What?" Miroku asked.

"I doubt… I don't think Lord Sesshomaru would appreciate me speaking of it. But I'll tell you. Just don't tell Lord Sesshomaru that I told you." Rin spoke the last behind her hand, as though Buddha might overhear and tattle.

Miroku snorted. "All right."

"When I found him, he was wounded."

Miroku refrained from drawling out, "What a shame."

"He had lost his arm. I didn't find out until later that he had lost it in battle with his younger brother, Inuyasha. I decided then that I didn't like Lord Sesshomaru's brother very much."

"And yet you still search for him?"

"Well, I have no choice," Rin replied tartly. "But I'll explain all that. Don't interrupt me."

Miroku snorted again. "My apologies. How rude of me."

"Thank you. Anyway, Lord Sesshomaru was very frightening when I found him. He growled at me when I got close the first few times, but then I started bringing him food and water. He let me get close then. He even started speaking to me."

"What did he say?" Miroku asked, suddenly intrigued by the thought of someone as petrifying as Sesshomaru trying to make conversation with a small, human child. It was rather amusing.

"He asked why I was helping him."

"Really?"

"Yes, but he told me right after that he didn't really care."

"And what was your answer?"

"Oh," Rin said. "Well, I wasn't really talking much at the time. My parents and brother had just died, and I wasn't doing very well." Her voice began to drop, but she abruptly brightened. "But Lord Sesshomaru fixed all that!"

"He revived your family?"

"No." Rin put her hands on her hips. "I already told you what he did. But, _as I was saying_, he told me that he didn't really care what I said, but I came back anyway. Would you like to know why?" She did not wait for Miroku to answer. "Once, a very long time ago, I found a kitten under the stairs of the headman's house. She was just a little, tiny thing. She was very scared, so she would not let me close to her. I started bringing her little bit of fish from my plate whenever I could, and before long, she started coming out. I named her Kibou, and she came to live with my family. She was a sweet little cat. But I knew, if I could get Kibou to like me with food and water, I could get Lord Sesshomaru to like me, too."

Miroku thought Rin was _very _fortunate. Few would consider using kitten-tactics with a demon, and even fewer would live to talk about it. It made him wonder, though, what made Sesshomaru act so strangely. It certainly would have made more sense for him to kill her when he had recovered.

"And what happened to little Kibou?" Miroku asked.

Rin looked at the flickering lamp between then, her hands fisted in her kimono. "She disappeared after I died."

"Ah," Miroku said, nodding. Of her entire story, the cat running away seemed like the only part that was not entirely impossible. Yes, he could understand the cat.

"You see this?" Rin asked, pointing to a pink, puckered scar on her throat. Miroku had noticed it before, but thought nothing of it. It was not a gruesome scar, certainly not one that could have resulted from a too terribly grievous wound. "This is where my throat was ripped out."

Or, Miroku thought, it would be the residual effect of having one's throat ripped out. Nothing too grievous.

"Oh… my."

"Mmm-hmm. I was attacked by wolves. I don't remember much after that."

"No, I suppose death can do that."

"Yes. All I can recall is waking up and being all achy, like my body did not want to move. I guess it was all set to go, but Lord Sesshomaru felt otherwise."

"Indeed."

"Anyway, he revived me, and we left together with Master Jakken. That was Lord Sesshomaru's retainer. The little frog man."

"Yes, I recall Master Jakken," Miroku replied. "He was a quite a loyal little servant, wasn't he?"

Rin rolled her eyes and nodded. "Yes, Jakken was dedicated." She put a crooked finger to her lower lip. "I wonder what happened to him. I guess I'll find out when I find Lord Sesshomaru."

"How did you and he get separated?"

Miroku almost jumped back in surprise when Rin flashed a huge grin at him. "It's the silliest story!"

"Oh?' Miroku asked hesitantly.

"Mmm-hmm. Lord Sesshomaru left me with a family in a village in the south. He was going to come back for me, but he must have been very busy."

"He left you?" Why, Miroku wondered, would the first Sesshomaru-like action the demon lord had done in this story come as a surprise to him? Of course Sesshomaru had abandoned the girl! Rin was lucky Sesshomaru had just left her and not bothered to remove her entrails first.

Rin nodded. "He was preparing for a battle and did not want me to be harmed, so he made me stay where I would be safe."

Miroku thought it more accurate to say that Sesshomaru did not want the girl underfoot. "How considerate of him," Miroku replied. Only after Rin scowled did Miroku remember that, in this particular audience, sarcastic stabs as Sesshomaru's character were frowned upon. "How long ago was this?"

Rin put her finger to her mouth and began counting on her free hand. She had four fingers raised when she replied, "About two years ago."

"You've been waiting two years?"

Miroku watched as Rin shifted abruptly from her sweet, charmingly dense self to something defensive, coiling on its haunches. "I knew he would be very upset when he returned for me if I wasn't there; he had told me to stay, and leaving would be going against his wishes. So I waited. I wouldn't want to aggravate him."

A demon of Sesshomaru's caliber could find anyone if he wanted, no matter the distance in miles or years. Miroku knew that, and he had an inkling that Rin knew that as well. It would have mattered little how far she traveled from that village; had Sesshomaru wanted to return and collect her, he would have. The hard, still look on Rin's face let Miroku know that Rin was already aware of this and that she had remained there for an entirely different reason that she had no intention of sharing with him.

"I left because I began to fear that something had happened to him," Rin continued. "Lord Sesshomaru may have gotten hurt, and it is my responsibility to find out if he has and where he is recovering."

Sesshomaru would not require two years to recover. The options seemed clear to Miroku: either Sesshomaru had survived and opted to abandon Rin or the demon lord was dead. He imagined this was clear to Rin as well.

"Your responsibility?" Miroku asked.

"Yes," Rin replied firmly. "As his vassal."

"Now you are left with the onus of searching out Inuyasha so he can help you find Sesshomaru?" Rin nodded. "And what if Sesshomaru has died?"

"He has not. I would know."

Just as she would know her monk the moment she saw him, Miroku thought. The girl stank of her fear, of her denial. For one reason or another, Sesshomaru was quite done with her. Miroku thought she was pathetic but had neither the courage nor the compassion to tell her.

"What makes you think Inuyasha will agree to take you? Or that he even knows where his brother is?"

"I will convince him," Rin said, putting her fist down on the tatami between them. "And he'll be able to find Lord Sesshomaru even if only because he's a half-demon. I don't intend on giving up until I find my lord, Mr. Miroku. I think that much is clear by now."

Yes, it was transparent. Miroku closed his eyes and nodded. "I will be unable to aid you, Miss Rin, on your journey. I have many responsibilities here at the temple that I cannot simply shirk off on Kado."

Rin blinked. "What?"

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Rin." It was the most humane thing he would do. Perhaps, without him, she would give up her miserable journey and return to her village. It would only end poorly if Miroku went.

When Miroku looked up, Rin's face was just as still as it had been before, only now her eyes were widened slightly. She stared at him for a long, unnerving moment before blinking and looking down.

"All right," she replied resignedly. "I understand, Mr. Miroku. I'll be leaving then." With that, she pushed herself up from the floor and turned toward the door where blustery night was leaking in.

"Wait," Miroku said, jumping to his feet and immediately regretting moving so quickly. "You needn't leave tonight!"

"I've gotten all I need from your temple, sir. I feel wrong taking more," Rin replied tightly, turning and watching him from the door. "If you will not accompany me, then I will find Inuyasha alone."

Miroku knew an ultimatum when we saw one. Though he would not be manipulated as such, he was not particularly fond of sending the girl off into the cold, rainy night all by herself.

He could however, manipulate back. "Perhaps you should eat before you leave. It's a long walk to the next village."

Rin paused, her back to the monk.

"And didn't you want to see that staff you used again? I recall you asking about those weapons as well. Certainly you'll stay to see those."

Her resolve was flickering as violently as the flame in the lamp.

"And Kado would be so disappointed if you left without saying goodbye."

Miroku watched her fists clench at her sides.

"It's a horrible night for traveling, too. But… if your heart is set on leaving, I suppose I can't stop you. Have a safe and speedy journey, Miss Rin. I hope you find—"

Rin spun around. "It _is_ a horrible night!" Rin exclaimed. "All that wind and rain. You're absolutely right. I guess I can stay until it's clear… just to say goodbye to Kado… and see those weapons." Rin gritted her teeth. "And eat something."  
Miroku thought he heard her mutter something profane under her breath, but he decided not to pry.

-

-

-

"Why do you keep such a heavy lock on the door?" Rin asked, palming the large, rusty padlock that held the doors of the garden shed closed futilely. Miroku came around to the front of the shed, holding a waxed paper umbrella over them both.

"I had intended on keeping others out." Had someone given Miroku that answer, he would have informed this someone that that was quite apparent; however, he hoped Rin would not notice.

She nodded, still eyeing the lock. "Perhaps you should have put your treasure in a thicker-walled shed. I broke in quite easily." She dropped the lock, which thumped dully against the wooden door. Dipping out from under the umbrella, Rin made her way around to the damaged wall.

"Well, you were picked up and thrown against it," Miroku pointed out, but Rin was not listening.

With the hem of her kimono around her knees, Rin stepped gingerly through the jagged portal and out of the rain. Miroku came after and followed her inside.

"This is quite a collection, Mr. Miroku," Rin said admiringly. She reached out and brushed her fingers over the wrapped hilt of a sheathed sword.

Miroku, standing by the entrance shaking out the umbrella, looked over his shoulder and replied, "It's almost two years of work."

Rin glanced at him, searching for permission to handle the sword. Miroku was reluctant to let her touch anything less benign than the umbrella in his hands, but he must have made some gesture or expression that Rin took to mean _go right ahead. _With an appreciative giggle, Rin hoisted the sword, sheath and all, off the shelf and into her arms. For a moment, she cradled it rather protectively before attempting to pull the sword from its scabbard. At first, she worked very carefully, fingering the adorned hilt lovingly, but when the rust and age of the blade seemed to be less than cooperative, Rin opted to put aside her awe in place of determination. With a string of grunts and sighs, Rin got the sword halfway out.

"Could you help me a little, Mr. Miroku?" Rin asked, her face rosy from the effort.

Miroku, who was all but plastering himself against the opposite wall, smiled disarmingly. "You can do it!" he cheered with a small punch of his right fist. "I have faith."

Rin batted her eyelashes. "Why thank you, Mr. Miroku." She went back to wrestling with the sword.

With one last, loud grunt, Rin jerked the sword free and swung it in a wide arch to keep her balance. Once she had found her feet, Rin delicately set the sheath aside.

"This sword has a very nice feel to it," she said, taking it in her right hand and spinning it in a full circle. "It feels… dragonic."

Miroku, while vacillating between fearing for his life and appreciating a wet woman with a nice sword, was rather impressed by her observation. "It is, actually," he replied. "It was made from the sacrum of very powerful dragon from the south."

"Do you know who?" Rin asked, giving the sword a slash to the right.

"I'm sorry?" Miroku asked.

Rin set the tip of the sword in the dirt floor and turned to Miroku. "Do you know the dragon's name or his rank?"

Miroku did not realize that dragons had names and ranks. "Uh… no?"

With a chagrined snort, Rin looked back at the blade. "I bet it was an ambassador. They always get slain," she said. "It's because no human is foolish enough to attack a dragon when he's with his kin, but the minute he's separated," she gave the sword a hard stab forward. "It's sad really. Dragon ambassadors are quite clever. They play a wonderful game of kemari."

Rin glanced at Miroku, saw the expression she was expecting – bewilderment, of course – and looked back at the sword.

"I suppose you didn't know that, did you? That dragons played kemari?"

Miroku did not know anything about dragons other than they were big and inevitably wanted to eat him. He always felt that was all one really needed to know about them. "No, I did not," he replied. The image of a dragon, a looming, wriggly, short limbed dragon attempting to bounce a ball on its knees – did dragons even have knees? – was rather humorous to Miroku. "How did they play?" he asked when his curiosity grew too great.

"Very well!' Rin said. She sheathed the sword and began to hop around the small space in the shed, tossing up her knees as though bouncing an unseen ball in the air. "So graceful and quick. Just like this."

"I know how the game is played, Miss Rin. I'm asking—"

"Oh, of course!" Rin said, coming to as stop before Miroku. "They would take on their unnatural form to play. They looked almost human." She began to laugh. "You didn't think they played in their true form, did you?"

Miroku frowned. "Forgive me my ignorance of dragon tradition," he said sarcastically.

"It's all right," Rin replied, giving him a dismissive wave. Something to Miroku's right caught her eye, and she dashed by him. "Oh, this is a find," she said, reaching to the shadowy back of a low shelf. Miroku felt himself leaning around to see what she had found despite himself.

Coughing from the disturbed dust, Rin pulled a long, slender hilt toward herself. She took a step closer and dropped to her knees before the shelf and gradually dragged another sword into her grasp, this one nearly her height in length.

"The ceremonial odachi," Rin said, awestruck. "Where on earth did you find _this_?" Very delicately, Rin balanced the sword across her lap and stroked it as though it were alive.

"That is one of the few items here that I purchased."

Rin looked up, aghast. "You bought this?"

"I did."

"But why would you buy such a thing?" she asked, her brow wrinkling.

Miroku thought the real reason – to impress a woman – was a rather poor excuse in wake of Rin's reaction. "For my collection, of course."

Slowly, she turned back to the sword. "That is absolutely shameful, Mr. Miroku."

"Excuse me?"

"I said," Rin turned stern eyes on him, "That is absolutely shameful. This is a very old, very well made sword, Mr. Miroku. You bought it from a merchant who obviously did not understand its value. If he truly knew, he never would have sold it. He would have built it a shrine."

"I'm afraid I fail to see its value, as well."

"This is a Hitokage piece," Rin said, pointing to the name engraved on the scabbard. "It's very rare and very old. Your merchant friend probably stole it out of a shrine. Shameful." Rin looked down. "He probably thought nothing of it since it is a demon piece."

"He probably did not recognize the signature on it," Miroku said, an edge of defense in his voice. He had rather liked that particular merchant; he had hardily seemed like the type to disrespect a blade simply because it was demonic and not human.

"Why, Mr. Miroku, do you have a shed full of demonic weapons, rusting in the dark? Why did you have a big lock on it? It's like you're hording them. Are you expecting an attack? Is there an army you must outfit?" As Rin spoke, she closed her fists around the sword.

"I assure you, Miss Rin, I have a reason for storing these weapons," Miroku replied rather tautly.

"Is it a good reason or just a reason?"

Before, he thought it was a weak reason at best. Now, Miroku thought it was a piss-poor one. "It is a valid reason."

Rin made a noise in her throat, gently slid the sword back onto the shelf, and rose to her feet. She dusked off her shins and stood up straight. "Well, I suppose I must trust you."

Miroku almost drawled out something sarcastic, but he contained himself. "Is there anything else you'd like to see?"

She, in true Rin fashion, seemed to forget that she had been upset about something, turned back to the shelf, and began rubbing her chin. "There are so many things, here, Mr. Miroku. I could spend years just sifting through. It would be nicer, however, if there was some kind of organization."

"There is organization," Miroku replied quickly.

"Oh?"

"Yes… the swords are over there… in that one place." He pointed to the corner were many swords were leaning in their scabbards against the wall.

Rin laughed through her nose and turned away from him. "What happened to that staff? Did it get put back in here?"

Now that Rin was unarmed, Miroku felt more comfortable approaching her. Pulling his water-weighted sleeves back from his hands, Miroku came to stand at Rin's left. "I brought it back here before we began working on the debris," he said, his gaze searching through the adumbral stockpile. "Here we are!" Miroku declared as he reached out and closed his hand around the waiting staff where it had been left, leaning against the wall.

Rin hummed excitedly. Miroku passed the staff to her, and she held it to her sternum. "I'm actually trained with one of these."

"Are you?"

"Mmm-hmm. Traveling with Lord Sesshomaru could be rather dangerous at times; he wanted me to be able to protect myself." With that, she hurried out of the shed and into the muddy cloister. Miroku followed her only as far as the impromptu entrance, where he stood, watching her rather curiously.

Once in the middle of the clearing, Rin began to bounce of the balls of her feet as she struggled to haul her dripping sleeves back. When she felt she was ready, Rin spread her feet and closed her eyes. She drew in a long, deep breath and visibly settled herself down into her center of balance. With her eyes still closed, she gave the staff one spin then two spins at her side, creating a blurry, brown circle against which her serene, tanned profile stood strong.

Miroku watched her as she began her sequence, seemingly unhindered by the rain. She took one long, slow step forward followed by a blindingly fast, sharp sweep behind her with the staff. With a slow, graceful pivot on her right foot, she snapped the staff back upright to her side by way of a blurry swipe over her head. She sliced the staff down once before her, twice before her, and snapped it out to the right. All the while, she moved with her eyes closed.

Miroku was impressed. She was quite swift and accurate with the staff. He, being familiar with this particular form of combat, was surprised to see that, for all Rin's clumsy mannerisms and awkward conversational skills, she could probably defeat him in battle. The right hand inside his sleeve, now solid and innocuous, gave a clench at the thought of being so helpless.

There were moments, Miroku had found, when he paused and remembered that, despite her seeming attempts to be otherwise, Rin was a very attractive woman. Now, with her heart-shaped face flushed and damp, her mouth opened as she breathed, and her dark lashes lowered, Miroku was reminded quite pointedly what a lovely specimen she was. Even the gray tent of a kimono she wore only worked to her benefit, making her appear petite where the fabric drooped and delightfully curvy where the fabric clung.

She was an odd sort of combination of things, Miroku thought, a mismatched jumble of creatures trying to coincide in the same skin. She was beautiful like a demon was deadly, all grace and stealth and threat creeping silently through the sopping underbrush. But she was also so painfully young and artlessly human.

Rin swung a blow so forcefully at an unseen enemy to her left that she released a solid _ya_ to relieve the pressure in her lungs. Drops of water spiraled around her, flung from the fanned ends of her hair as she spun, and she came to a sudden stop, glaring fiercely into the distance, her staff locked under her right arm and in her right fist.

In a flash, Rin's scowl disappeared. In its place rose a grin that she directed at Miroku. "Would you like to see my favorite sequence, Mr. Miroku?" she called over the rain.

Miroku had to smile back. "Certainly," he replied with his hand cupped around his mouth.

She hesitated, looking like she was trying to interpret Miroku's reply through the rain. After a moment, Rin nodded and swiped her dripping bangs back, plastering them to her head. She adjusted her sleeves once more before snapping her staff into a locked position under her right arm. Her face immediately shifted into a cold, focused glower. The combination of such a frightfully serious face and the large blunt weapon under her arm made Miroku reconsider his request.

After striding her way over to the far corner of the cloister, still cluttered with half-consumed timbers now sinking into the mud, Rin did a quick about face.

Rin stood rigid for a moment, then another moment, then another. Only when he felt his chest constrict did Miroku realize he was holding his breath. He would have laughed at himself had he started breathing again.

The vast stillness Rin waited to fill seemed to solidify before her until Miroku thought she might be fading out. Or perhaps it was the oxygen deprivation. Suddenly, Rin jolted forward. She took two springy, loping steps before planting her foot just right to send her sliding forward, wheeling her arms back. The staff went flying. She let out a yelp before falling with an explosive splat to the mud.

Miroku did not get a chance to inhale before laughing. The combination of simultaneously gasping and guffawing almost felled him, too.

She took a moment to recover. "I'm okay!" Rin called in Miroku's direction, holding the veil of her sopping bangs out of her face like a stringy, black curtain. "Are you laughing?" she demanded.

"No," Miroku coughed, trying to recover from the odd dance number his lungs had done.

"That one didn't count, all right?" Rin said. Miroku managed a nod. Rin began patting the mud down around her for the staff, and when that search turned up nothing she rose to her feet and looked around. Arms akimbo, Rin turned a slow circle until she spotted a bronze end cap by a rather downtrodden-looking azalea. Gingerly, Rin approached the staff, gathered it up, and returned to the corner where the whole fiasco began.

With all this wild movement, Rin's sleeves had slipped back down over her hands so that she had to grip the wood through the fabric. Rin let out a grunt as she thrust her staff into the soft ground to free her hands.

Miroku watched as Rin fished a long, white strip of fabric from the front of her kimono. Holding one end in her mouth, Rin twisted the strip about her shoulders in a way that pinned her sodden sleeves to her body, revealing her slender arms, as thin and naked as whittled maple branches. Satisfied with her new arrangement, Rin plucked her staff from the ground and took a ready stance.

What Rin's sleeves had to do with her feet, Miroku did not know. He had little time for conjecture, however.

Like a distant, terrible signal, a clap of thunder rent the droning percussion of the rain, and Rin sprung forward. This time, she made it to five long strides – each punctuated with a cursory grazing of the ball of one slender, brown foot over the mud – before she swung the staff over her head with a two handed grip and slammed one bronze end into the earth. Using the staff to push off, Rin sent herself flying into the air. She kept her grip on the staff, curling her body around the long shaft as she turned one, two, three summersaults in the air. She landed with a furious splash in a crouched position like a coiled demon, slicing the staff through the air so quickly it appeared to Miroku as a huge, mahogany fan at her side. She slammed her weapon in the ground, cleaving an invisible enemy. Rin kept her head bowed but glared up through her lashes at her intangible and now-bisected foe.

Miroku almost began to applaud before Rin sprang back up.

She was on her feet in an instant, spinning the staff over her head before slicing downward in three different directions. She then gripped the shaft with one hand and, using an incredible nimble wrist, spun the staff in huge figure eights that folded around her body. All the while, she kept her dormant hand close to her chest.

Then, Rin did something that simultaneously awed and puzzled Miroku. In the middle of her last, sweeping spin of the staff, Rin slammed the shaft into her other palm, closing both hands around her weapon. She then seemed to throw herself to the ground; however, as she dove, she kicked her feet into the air and was suddenly upside-down where she had once been standing. Using her momentum, Rin released one hand from the staff and pivoted on her open palm, flat in the mud. All the while, she snapped her legs open into a fully horizontal split, resulting in what looked to Miroku to be a petrifying pinwheel of pain. Between Rin's dizzying speed and his own amazement, Miroku did not have time to be disappointed that her wet kimono wrapped itself modestly around Rin's lethal lower half.

As soon as she had begun, Rin was done.

Abruptly right side up, Rin wasted little time waiting for the world to right itself. She took two more loping steps into a one-handed cartwheel, holding the staff close to her trunk as her feet reached first for the clouds then back for the ground. She turned another single-handed cartwheel, then a third – by this point, Miroku had noticed that Rin was drawing dangerously near – before throwing herself into a fourth spin, this time gripping her staff with both hands and allowing herself to sail over the ground without the aid of her hands.

Rin landed twice an arm's reach from Miroku with her back to him before she spun around and dropped into another crouch, carving the air a foot from Miroku's nose with a sharp, bronze-tipped slice of her staff. And, by this point, Miroku had resolved that it was, indeed, her staff.

For a moment, all was motionless save the rain. Compensating, Miroku thought, for the reality-defying frenzy of movement seconds ago.

_Drip, drip, drip_ echoed in his ears. Rain ran down Miroku's gently quaking umbrella.

"Sesshomaru taught you that?" Miroku asked, aware of every fluid curl of air passing through him.

Rin, who had allowed her eyes to drop to her pales knuckles sinking into the mud, looked up at Miroku. "Some," she replied, her shortness of breath catching up to the rest of her. "A funny little monkey demon from Kyushu taught me the upside-down spinny trick."

She was flushed and looked hot to the touch. Miroku watched her shoulders heaving gently, her clavicles growing deep and then shallow as her chest expanded and collapsed. Beads of sweat and rain water trickled down her exposed sternum in crooked rivulets.

Miroku thought he could feel runoff sloshing between his ears, and all he could think of was that ridiculous kimono on the floor, staining the tatami by his futon.

"Mr. Miroku?" Rin asked, her smile dropping. He was staring so intently at her, as though there was a great deal more churning beneath his still exterior. She stood quickly, leaving her staff in the mud, and stepped under Miroku's umbrella. "I'm sorry if I frightened you," she said.

Miroku felt himself recoil a little. This, he told himself, he had not considered, this other reason Sesshomaru had abandoned the girl. His heart thudded against the back of his ribs.

"Miroku," Rin continued, sounding concerned. She reached her fingers toward his face. "Are you—"

Miroku silenced her by grabbing her wrist before she could touch him. He felt her thin bones under his hand, her pulse tapping against his palm, saw her rosy fingertips and fragile looking fingers. This woman, he thought, was dangerous for someone like Sesshomaru to have around. She must have been a mind-numbing distraction. Even for a demon lord.

However, she was Sesshomaru's distraction. And, consequently, not Miroku's. "That was remarkable, Miss Rin," Miroku said, releasing her damp, sanguine hand. "A little surprised. That's all."

"Oh." Rin blinked. "Thank you, then." She smiled until her eyes disappeared. "I forgot how much space that sequence requires. I usually take six steps to start, not five. Would have taken your face off."

Rin seemed to think that was rather amusing. "You're certainly not as harmless as you look," Miroku replied, wishing for more reasons than one that Rin was not sharing his umbrella, wishing she would pull her neckline closed, wishing she did not look quite so much like another dark haired, adroit woman who fought like a fish swims, like he breathes.

"Don't leave that out here," Miroku said, pointing to the staff Rin had abandoned in the mud.

-

-

-

The night the rain stopped, Rin had been at the temple for three days. The low-hanging, lead-bellied clouds had opened in earnest that afternoon, dropping their tai-fun season loads on the little temple. Miroku and the others worked through the halfhearted drizzle in the morning and the after-lunch barrage, clearing away the last of the salvageable beams and crunchy, sooty mud. Despite the chilly air, Miroku and Kado shed all but their first layer of kimono, letting the rest of their clothing inflict its augmented weight on the floorboards of the porch. The rain washed their sweat away as it left their pores; Rin wondered if the men noticed how all the water licked from cracked lips tasted like tears.

Almost half an hour after Rin tossed her last shovelful of cinder, Miroku stowed away the last reusable plank, and Kado hauled away the last beam for burning, the rain stopped. The clouds rolled away from the nighttime firmament above, revealing the diamond-specked, distant black silk of the opaque cover draped over the birdcage of the world.

When Rin noticed the rain had stopped, she picked up her dried potato wedge and took it with her as she left dinner to investigate.

"Miss Rin?" Miroku called as she wandered out the door without warning.

Kado and Miroku exchanged a glance before climbing to their feet and following her outside. Together, they found Rin standing with all ten naked toes dangling off the edge of the porch, one hand holding a support beam for the roof and the other pinching her forgotten sweet potato. She stared so intently at the night sky that Kado began to wonder if there was something more to see there. He stepped up to Rin's right and began scrutinizing the sky as well.

Miroku came to Rin's left and looked up. "What are we looking at?" he asked.

"The rain's stopped," Rin observed. She looked over to Miroku who turned away from the sky to return her gaze. "I must leave tomorrow."

Miroku knew better than to argue. In fact, he didn't really want to argue, but that could not hide the part of him that was disappointed.

-

-

-

Winter nights at the temple were eerie. Miroku lay in his futon, staring at the ceiling, listening to the chilly, shifty silence outside. Not a cicada sang, not a cricket chirped, not a raindrop fell. The wind swept through the building, making the walls moan for a long, wavering moment, like a doleful creature was sighing a dirge as it lurked through the halls. Miroku would have appreciated even a mosquito's buzz just to hew the heavy background.

He listened to his own breath, his heartbeat, which sped up as soon as he gave it attention. He listened to his toes rustling the fabric of his quilt. He listened to his hair growing and his home settling. He listened to the padding of light, bare feet outside his room. He listened to Rin being almost silent as she hovered at his door, her hair swishing and lungs working. Then she was gone, like a curious and cautious little animal. Like a mouse.

Miroku propped himself up on his elbow a moment later and looked behind him to the shoji screens that partitioned the room from the hall outside. The soft padding beyond returned, accompanied by a bobbing lantern that hovered like an inquisitive star.

"Mr. Miroku," Rin whispered, her mouth close to the crack between two screens. "Something's coming."

She lingered for only a moment before scampering away, the jiggling, butter-yellow circle on the shoji following behind her.

Once the light was gone and the room was silent, Miroku sat up and listened to the silence so intently, he felt as though he was observing a second presence in the room. The room felt darker now with his eyes briefly exposed to the lamplight, and the dark felt even thicker, as though the air around him was congealing, the layers of quiet coalescing into one big, silent pudding. Miroku sensed nothing other than the malapropos aura of Rin, flitting around the far left corner of his spectral vision.

In the distant forest, there was a crash.

In an instant, Miroku was awake and dressing. The edge of his senses exploded with a cluster of pinpricks, an encroaching crowd of low-energy creatures. Men. Fifteen or twenty of them – protective, angry, and frightened.

While Miroku's attention was directed at tying knots and draping, the shoji screen entrance clattered open. Miroku looked up to see Rin, filling his doorway with her slight frame, somnambulist's dishabille, and an aura flickering like a torch.

"Stay here," Miroku commanded firmly.

Rin laughed, making the lantern bob. "Get dressed. They'll be upon us soon." She set the lantern down just inside Miroku's door and darted out of the light.

"Miss Rin!" Miroku called as he tied the last knot of his robes. "Miss Rin!" But she was gone. With a brusque sigh, Miroku gathered the lantern and his staff from where it lay next to his futon and followed the extrasensory tickling of the approaching mob. They were on the foot road at the base of the hill and advancing on the face of the temple.

Rin was waiting for him when Miroku arrived at the entrance. She clutched a lamp of her own in her left hand and gestured Miroku closer with her right.

As soon as Miroku appeared in the temple entrance, the men began to shout for him. Only four or five of the approaching men carried lanterns, and they held them high for the others, making them look, from a distance, as though massive fireflies were traveling with the crowd.

"Monk Miroku," the man in the lead called as Miroku leapt down the stairs and jogged down the path, meeting the men halfway.

Mosuke, the headman of a village to the east, lead the group. He was a large man, taller than Miroku and better fed, and on this night he wore full armor and a decorative pelt around his waist.

"You look like you're preparing for battle," Miroku remarked as he allowed Mosuke to catch his breath.

"We are," Mosuke gasped. "The demon you fought two days ago has returned. He's in the village right now!"

Two things struck Miroku immediately: the corpse he, Kado, and Rin had dragged into the forest seemed awfully dead the day before; and why were all the village's strongest men at his door if the village was under attack?

"Mr. Mosuke and you," Miroku pointed at a man standing behind the headman, "Stay with me. The rest of you, return to the village quickly! If you value your wives, you'll run!"

Above, at the temple entrance, the noise had roused Kado, who now stood trembling to Rin's right. Rin squinted into the darkness and strained her ears to hear what the men were discussing below.

"What's going on now?" Kado asked. His voice quaked.

Rin held up her right hand, silencing Kado. More than anything, Rin tried to gauge the air coming off Miroku. She wished she could see his face. She could, however see the headman's drawn, sweating expression. She watched Miroku gesture violently in the direction the men had come, and then all but Miroku and two men remained on the path. That was indicative enough for Rin.

"Not many restful nights for the holy, are there?" Rin asked rhetorically before she turned and tore down the hall toward the traveler's quarters, leaving Kado on the brink of answering that, no, actually, most nights were quite peaceful.

The polished floor slid out from under her as Rin tried to take a sharp left turn into her room, and she fell with a thud, slapping her entire left side against the boards. Wasting no time, Rin scrambled back to her feet and threw open the screen to her chamber. For a moment, he eyes raked frantically over the dim room before landing on her objective. Leaning against the exterior wall, as though it were waiting for her, was the demonic staff, a gift from Miroku.

With a triumphant _ha_, Rin darted into the room and snatched up her staff before slamming open a second shoji screen, one that opened to the eastern forest outside the temple. Just as she emerged, Miroku and the others came crashing around the corner of the temple, headed for an unseen path through the dense forest. The sputtering, yellow light of a lantern cast down on them from the dowel the second villager grasped. Rin bounded off the porch and landed with a _squelch_ in the slippery grass directly in front of the approaching trio.

Miroku hesitated only a moment before charging into the forest, Rin at his side.

"I told you to stay inside!" Miroku snapped, sparing as little breath as possible. He swung his staff in deliberate arcs before him, clearing the brush.

"You can take the time to make me," Rin replied, "Or you can let me take care of myself." She shouted to be heard over the deafening racket of three men scrambling through the woods. Rin hardily made a sound. This was not lost on Miroku.

"Where are you taking us?" Mosuke shouted from the rear.

"To your village," Miroku called back. "This will get us there before the others."

If the headman doubted Miroku, he did not say so. Rin and the others fell into silence as they trudged through the underbrush, their running having been hampered. Miroku continued to slash through the undergrowth with his staff, but he could not help but notice that Rin was pulling ahead as she ducked under the tangled vines and branches, dragging her belly across the moss and leaves.

"Merciful Buddha," the headman groaned. "What is that smell?"

Rin bounced up from the ground and sniffed the air. "It's the carcass," she informed Miroku, who had already put a sleeve to his nose.

"Thank you," he drawled nasally.

Off to their right, a clearing opened. The sandy dirt pit only stretched about ten paces in diameter. In the middle of the pit, a large mound of dirt rose, the top of which had been removed haphazardly.

Rin moved away from the group to investigate the disturbed grave. As she came to stand over the mound, she winced and drew her face back, waving a hand before her nose.

"Is it still there?" Miroku asked.

"Yes," Rin replied, her voice tight. She heard a fly buzz by her ear. "Something's dug her up, though." Rin crouched and examined the dirt around the grave. In the dim lamplight, Rin could see the half-decayed jaw of the demon. The white bone peeked through the black and pink sludge of her rancid meat. Her skin squirmed with the motion of maggots below. "Looks like a wolf did this," she called to Miroku as she straightened.

"What is this?" the headman asked, exchanging puzzled expressions with the other villager who had accompanied them.

"We must keep moving," Miroku insisted, gesturing for the villagers to follow him. "The night your village was attacked, the demon followed me here," he explained. "I was able to slay it, and we buried the body here."

"Then what is attacking my village?" Mosuke asked.

"What _is_ attacking your village?" Rin asked as she joined back up with the group. "Does it look like the first demon?"

The headman gave Miroku an expression half disapproving and half questioning. Miroku cleared his throat and repeated Rin's question.

"I assumed it was the same demon," the headman answered. "He looks like a man, though. He walks upright on his hind legs and gestures with his hands like a man. He even spoke to me."

"What did he say?' Miroku asked, his voice taut as he struggled to hold back a thorny branch.

"He demanded I return Iyomi."

"Who is Iyomi?" Miroku asked.

"How should—"

Rin stopped abruptly and held up a hand to silence the headman. Mosuke opened his mouth to demand why this slip of a girl was suddenly giving orders, but Miroku raised one hand as well to indicate silence.

Something was moving through the brush. Quietly at first, a rhythmic rustling like something breathing hard into the brush. As Rin and the others waited, the sound got louder, and as fast as it had arrived, the rustling turned into a crashing.

"What the hell?" Mosuke asked.

Something crashed a yard from them, making the trees tremble.

"Get out of the way!" Rin cried. She seized Miroku's sleeve and shoved him with all her might to the ground. Both the headman and the other villager dove out of the path of a huge demon, larger than first, as it exploded from a wall of trees. The lantern sailed through the air and hit the ground. With a sizzle, the light blinked out.

Rin, unfortunately, did not move as quickly as the others, and the demon, a towering cat with eyes so angry they glowed in his skull, swatted Rin aside. The motion was so quick, the beast hardly paused in his gallop. Miroku watched from the ground as Rin was lifted into the air and thrown backwards, her staff flying from her hand. She slammed into a tree, making the dead leaves overhead shudder, and flopped to the ground limply.

"Rin!" Miroku shouted and jumped to his feet.

Rin let out a dry cough and slumped to the side as the leaves she had shaken from the tree settled around her as peacefully as a sigh.

Miroku dropped to one knee at her side and touched her arm.

"Rin," he repeated.

"I fine," Rin gasped. She accepted Miroku's aid and let him pull her to her feet. "I'm all right. He knocked the wind from me." She allowed herself a moment to hang from Miroku's grasp before bracing her legs beneath her. When Miroku did not immediately release her, Rin gently swatted his hand. "Oh, don't fuss."

Once Rin was righted, Miroku noticed how unearthly silent the forest had become. He looked up and saw the headman and the other villager lingering at the edge of the clearing, watching the demon as it prowled a lap around the upset grave.

With a flash of light and a curl of smoke, the demon collapsed and rose up in the shape of a man, standing erect. He remained standing for only a moment before dropping to his knees beside the grave. Miroku watched as he threaded his fingers through the shifting dirt atop the mound; he raised his hands and allowed the soil to sift through his fingers. The demon dipped one hand into the disinterred grave, stroked lovingly the corpse that peeked through.

Miroku heard Rin gasp quietly to his left. She put a hand over her mouth and breathed, "Her mate." Rin's free hand closed around Miroku's wrist.

In the naked starlight, the demon's shock of hair was white, pearlescent and stained with blood. His bare back rose and fell as it jerked with silent sobs. A long, thin strand of a moan leaked from him. It twined through the trees and seemed to hang in the air like a vine.

Rin squeezed Miroku hard before flying from his side. She seemed to dip in and out of the trees like a firefly in flight, her white sleeping kimono catching the moonlight in flashes as she passed from patches of shadow to pools of light. Miroku trailed after her.

Her bare feet hardily made a sound as she approached the clearing and stepped gingerly out of the trees. "You," Rin began, her voice shaking. The demon started but did not turn to look at her. "You can take the body, if you wish. I will help."

"What good is her corpse?" the demon rasped, scraping his voice up from the bottom of his lungs. He petted the fresh soil futilely.

"You can give her a proper burial. Take her back to her family."

"For what?" the demon barked, snapping his head around to glare at Rin with eyes like smoldering embers. "So they can see her charred fur? Her crushed skull?" He rose to his full height, dwarfing Rin as she boldly came to stand at his side.

Rin clasped her hands to her chest. "I…" she began before looking down at the forest floor, ashamed. "I'm sorry."

The demon scoffed loudly. "You're _sorry_? You give me your pity?" He started to turn away, but stopped. He pivoted quickly and snatched up Rin by the arm. He jerked her forward and stared down her eyes. All three of the onlookers, Miroku and the villagers, tensed.

Rin did not avert her eyes when the demon drew two long sniffs off her.

"Bring her back," the demon snarled.

"I can't," Rin breathed.

He smelled her again and gave her a solid shake. "Bring her back!" he barked, his face inches from hers.

"_I can't!_" Rin shouted, her face angry now. "Even if I could, I wouldn't. She's gone, and I wouldn't take that from her."

The demon released Rin with a shove, sending her stumbling backwards. "Human," he growled disdainfully.

Miroku watched the light reflecting off Rin's eyes as they widened, the only sign of her pained expression.

The demon began to pace, his body tense and troubled. "I did not come here for this."

"Why, then?" Rin asked, her voice tempered once more. "Why did you attack the village?"

The demon was silent as he prowled around the grave, circling one way then the other. He finally came to a stop between Miroku and the grave, his back hunched as his eyes gazed down at his partially unearthed mate. "Because," the demon hissed before spinning around and leveling his burning gaze on the headman, "_That human is wearing my daughter!_" He pointed a claw at the russet pelt the headman wore over his armor.

Before Rin and the villagers could react, the demon let out an air-renting roar and lunged at the headman, claws and fangs glinting. Miroku, however, countered the attack reflexively. The moonlight flashed as Miroku leapt in front of the headman and raised his staff. For a moment, the rings on the staff tinkled innocently, then they were silent, imbedded in the demon's solar plexus.

Rin furrowed her brow and looked away as the pale white light shown with horrific clarity off the end of Miroku's staff, protruding from the demon's back. The staff jerked in Miroku's grip from the motion of the demon's hulk sliding haltingly down the haft. The little rings tinkled in time.

Miroku changed his hold on the staff, allowing the corpse to slide to the ground. In the moonlight, the blood looked like tar, dripping between his snowy-white fingers.

Once the body was settled, Rin strode forward, crouched down, and rolled the demon over so that he lay on his back. His breaths came in ragged, wet pants as blood bubbled up on his ivory lips. Gently, Rin lifted his head and inched herself under him, letting his blood trickle down onto her thighs. For a moment, he glared at her with trembling eyes. Then, his face relaxed, the hard line of his mouth easing, softening. Rin smoothed his white hair away from his clammy forehead. She met his eyes and smiled until she realized that the expression of forgiveness he cast at her was involuntary; he was dead. The demon's pale eyes stared back at her, and she closed them gently.

The sound of her own breath roared in Rin's ears, like she was pushing gravel up and down a trough.

The headman let out an explosive sigh. "Well," he said. "I'm certainly glad that is over."

Neither Rin nor Miroku acknowledged the headman.

"I suppose this," Mosuke stroked the pelt, "is Iyomi."

Miroku turned away from the spectacle in the clearing. "Return to your village, headman," he said and laid a hand on Mosuke's shoulder. "We will take care of things here."

Rin looked up at the headman. "Could you, Mr. Mosuke," she began, her voice suddenly and startling despite it's gentle timbre. "Could you leave the skin here?"

The headman looked from Rin to the monk, hoping the definitive voice on things holy would relieve him of the obligation.

"Or perhaps," Rin continued, her voice even and chilly, "I could bury the skin of your daughter here instead." She lifted her face just enough to look up at the headman. "To be fair." Out of her peripheral vision, Rin saw Miroku's eye widen.

With a succinct, affronted sigh, the headman loosed the skin from his belt and tossed into the dirt by Rin's calf. He then turned to Miroku and said, "I am in your debt," before bowing and leaving in the direction of the temple, the other villager at his heels.

The rustling of the departing men grew quieter and quieter until Rin, Miroku, and the corpses were alone with the trees. The hush hung around them like a mist, thick and palpable. Miroku hovered over Rin and the body of the demon, letting the almost preternatural silence bide its time, giving himself a moment to assess.

"Rin," Miroku began.

"I saved your life," Rin said, sharp and even, like she was saying something else, like she was reminding him of a bet that he lost. And now he owed her something.

Miroku forfeited his admonition in trade; she already knew what he would say. "He thought you could revive his mate?" Miroku said instead.

"I smell like death," Rin said, stroking the demon's hair. "He thought I was a wedge, a doorstop between this world and the next." She looked up at Miroku. "I'm not."

"I know."

"Sometimes I wish I were, though. Perhaps," Rin hesitated, "perhaps what he had to give was great enough to make it worth it."

"Worth it?" Miroku asked.

Rin smiled and looked up at him. "Death is a jealous lover, you know. She doesn't share. But," Rin breathed a laugh, "she's not above a good deal."

"And what does death barter for?"

Rin shrugged. "For this poor beast? Nothing. Not now at least. Maybe," she traced the demon's jaw line with rosy, steady fingers, "maybe his existence would have been enough. His demonhood." Rin sighed and inched out from under the demon, cradling his head before she could set it down. "They'll all be gone soon, you know," Rin continued as she walked past Miroku. He watched her slip into a shadow and ferret about the underbrush. She emerged a moment later, holding her staff.

"I don't know if I believe that," Miroku said as Rin returned, her face calm and thoughtful, her lips slightly parted as if she were breathing a thin, unending sigh.

"It's true. There are so many men. They clog a demon's senses until he becomes disoriented. He becomes careless. An easy kill." She hovered over the body, watching him intently.

"He was distraught," Miroku said as though it might comfort Rin. "Bereaved. He wasn't thinking,"

Rin swung her gaze around and leveled Miroku in her mahogany stare. "Men are so loud. And they smell so unnatural. A demon could get lost in a crowd if they did not kill him first." She closed her eyes and furrowed her brow. She was imagining, Miroku realized, what a demon might feel. "Men are a blur of things. They shout and sweat and need so much more than any other animal. And you can't even defend yourself without them all swarming. You're a monster, then, and they're justified in killing you."

She was going somewhere far away, and Miroku placed a hand on the small of Rin's back, coaxing her to return. "You're one of them, too, Miss Rin. Human." Her eyes slid open.

"Soon there will just be the earth, the men, and people like me," she replied. Her voice hardened suddenly. "And we'll remember what it was like before humans conquered everything." Rin pulled away from Miroku's touch and turned to the forest.

"Where are you going?" Miroku asked before Rin slipped back into the woods.

"To get a shovel," she replied without looking back.

Miroku closed his eyes and willed a blossoming headache and his exhaustion away. He then headed into the forest after Rin. It hurt, he thought, to watch this girl do all the things he could not.

-

-

-

Kado slumped with a sigh, sliding down a tree trunk until he felt himself cradled in the roots, folded close and succoring. He bent his legs in and rested his shovel across his knees.

"I apologize," Miroku groaned as he sank to the earth next to Kado. He grunted as he splayed his weary legs out before him. "This was not your burden."

"It was nothing, Master Miroku. I was glad I could relieve Miss Rin."

"Yes," Miroku said noncommittally. He had sent Rin back to the temple when Kado stumbled into the clearing nearly an hour earlier. She had been growing clumsier by the minute as her fatigue set in. "It's difficult to remember sometimes that she's still just a girl."

"Just a girl," Kado repeated to no one.

After hearing it from someone else, the notion felt even stranger.

"You're the one, aren't you, Master Miroku?" Kado asked.

Miroku looked at his protégé. Kado's chin was turned up, his eyes searching the jagged-edged patch of early morning sky above them. "You're the one Miss Rin has been looking for, aren't you?"

"Yes," Miroku answered plainly.

"Then," Kado hesitated, "the curse…"

"Is gone."

"Oh. Good."

Miroku wished there were an easy way to say that the curse was not there now without implying that it had once. He had not expected he would have to tell Kado about the wind tunnel ever, and he certainly never imagined telling him like that: an embittered, little confession after his secret was shamefully slipped.

"You'll be leaving then?" Kado asked, idling spinning the shaft of his shovel on his knees.

"Actually, no," Miroku answered. He suddenly felt guilty. Kado had been expecting him to say yes. "I told Miss Rin that I have responsibilities here that I cannot abandon."

Miroku heard Kado let about a long sigh. "Well, I'm relieved, Master Miroku. With the increase of demon attacks lately, I've been worrying that you would leave all the exorcisms to me!"

Miroku chuckled. "I have faith in you, Kado."

"I doubt, sir, that I could do it with quite the, uh, _style_ that you do."

That made Miroku laugh from his stomach. "They have been going poorly lately, haven't they?" Miroku gestured to the three graves before them: two large mounds and only small one, all in a neat row.

"Yes, sour luck. I should pray harder," Kado said jovially. His voice then dropped to a more serious tone, "To be honest, sir…" he looked down at his hands, now hanging in his lap. "I'm relieved for more than my sake. Miss Rin seems… that is… it feels like there is a great hole in her, like something was taken away. I was rather afraid that you might fall in."

"Have you so little faith in me, Kado?" Miroku asked though he had not been offended.

Kado suddenly realized what he had been insinuating and spun around to face Miroku. He threw himself face down into the dirt. "I sincerely apologize, Master Miroku. I didn't mean to imply—"

"I understand, Kado," Miroku said placatingly.

Kado looked up for a moment before putting his face to the ground once more. "Miss Rin is so likable, Master. I was afraid she might consume you with this quest of hers. I sense that… that is, I fear that what she might be looking for, the balm for this hole," Kado peered up at Miroku, "it might be something you can't help her find."

"I can help her find what she wants," Miroku replied, "but that is not what she needs." He turned to Kado, who was still paying his obeisance. "You're very intuitive, Kado."

Kado laughed and rolled onto his haunches. "I'm honored that you'd say that, sir, but I'm not." He rose slowly to his feet and collected his shovel. "I was thinking, of this… this curse, Rin spoke of." Kado turned toward the woods, "I thought it sounded rather like what afflicts Miss Rin, in a different sort of way."

Miroku had to consciously stifle a wince. "Perhaps."

"Would like me to wait for you, sir?"

"No, no, that's fine. Get some sleep."

"Thank you. Good night, Master Miroku."

"Good night."

Kado trudged off into the forest, crashing along until the distance and the forest between muffled his presence away. Miroku leaned his head back and sighed, watching his breath curl into a thin cloud. Soon, he thought, it would be too cold to linger outdoors at night. Autumn was fading; Miroku remembered nights when he watched the stars through the naked trees. He remembered counting them over and over to keep himself awake when they would take shifts.

Miroku felt a twinge in his right hand, and he flexed it with a grimace. He was resigned that it would never leave him, that curse. Not entirely. It still ached fiercely in the cold.

He looked at his palm, his scar grey from the cold. Slowly, he curled his fingers into a fist and closed his eyes. He could still remember what it felt like, carrying his own death with him everywhere he went.

When his fingers uncurled, Miroku began to wonder. He brought his palm to his face and sniffed curiously. Had he smelled like death? Did he still? Was death the sort of thing you could wash out of your clothing eventually? Or would he have that always? Like he was always just a little bit lethal. Not lethal enough to kill. Not anymore.

Miroku could smell nothing but soil and his own sweat. Besides, the demon had not asked _him_ to revive its dead mate. Perhaps that meant the death had faded from Miroku. It had been years.

Yet, by that reasoning, Rin should not smell of death either. She had been reanimated a decade ago.

It must be that hole, he thought, the one Kado feared Miroku might fall into. Her own curse. The one Miroku was leaving her to resolve on her own.

_I can help her find what she wants,_ he heard in his mind. _But that is not what she needs. _What she needs, Miroku considered. What was it that Rin wanted from Sesshomaru? She wanted to see him again, she had implied. Yet, somehow, Miroku imagined it could not be easier to hunt the demon lord than accept the truth: either he was dead or he was done with her. Both of those options resulted in Rin's permanent parting from Sesshomaru. Did she think she could change his mind? Make him take her back? She believed the demon lord was not dead, that much Miroku was sure of. And, for as vacant as she seemed to be sometimes, Miroku also believed that Rin knew how likely it was that Sesshomaru might take her back, tuck her into the little Rin-shaped dent any normal man would have in his side.

So what was she looking for?

Just to see him again, an underused corner of Miroku's mind offered. Just to put a more flattering bookend on the tome of their companionship. Miroku snorted. This would mean that Rin put incredibly more faith in the demon lord than Miroku did. That, or she was truly in love.

That notion brought Miroku's train of thought to a complete stop. Love. That made sense, which consequently made everything else make no sense while also making that fact entirely excusable. Since when, really, did love allow room for logic?

At the mercy of love, Miroku had done things that he would never do again, yet still things he was grateful to have done once. The garden shed, filled to capacity with weapons, rose in Miroku's mind, and he had to stop to remind himself that other people might still enjoy satisfactions he did not. Who was he to deny Rin that? Even if her satisfaction was closure?

Miroku let out a raspy groan as his right hand throbbed. With a grimace, he looked at his marred palm. He thought of all the chapters of his life that had been sucked into that hole, lost down a well from which he could not draw. Sealing that hole had been like closing a back cover. Healing brought finality to so many things. In the deep lines of his skin, he read a long, sad story with a beginning, middle, and end. And for that, he was at once resentful and appreciative.

"Who am I," he asked of the three graves before him, "to know what is right?"

Miroku climbed to his feet, groaning from his sore muscles. He gave the dead family one last moment of his attention and headed into the woods. He would sleep heavily tonight, he knew. Then, in the morning, he would tell Rin that he would, indeed, be accompanying her. With any luck, they'd be able to heal this curse of hers faster than he healed his.


End file.
